Baby Doll
by restive nature
Summary: A teenage girl with mysterious ties to Angel helps him with his Christmas Amends.
1. Default Chapter

Title: Baby Doll

Author Restive Nature

Disclaimers: I do not own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series. They belong to the almighty Joss and I just play with them for my own amusement before putting them away neatly.

Spoilers: Buffy Season Three "Amends"

Summary: A teenage girl with mysterious ties to Angel helps him with his Christmas Amends.

Prologue

Christmas 1998

Angel stared up at the sunless sky, still trying to take in the unnatural snow. He knew logically where it came from. And at first, when the snow had started, he wasn't sure why it had. But Buffy's words echoed in his mind. And he knew there was someone who thought he was worth something. There was a reason for him to stay in this world. To keep fighting. And it was more than the amazing woman strolling idly by his side. He glanced down at her, enjoying the look of wonderment and childish delight in his lover's eyes. Having her by his side made life a little more bearable.

They continued to stroll down the main streets of Sunnydale, unbothered by the cold. Neither one said anything, there were no words needed now. But Angel could feel a little niggling sensation in the back of his head. He recognized it for what it was. He'd only ever felt this way with one other person, Buffy. They always could sense each other. Whether it grew out of their connection as Vampire and Slayer, or from being lovers and soul mates, he wasn't sure. But this sensation was different. This other connection came from a place that he didn't understand. Finally, it grew strong enough to make him stop in his tracks and glance around.

"Are you okay?" Buffy asked, stopping as well, gripping his hand a little tighter. She had almost lost him this morning and was unwilling to let go their physical connection.

"Yeah baby," he whispered, his eyes scanning the street. Finally, he saw her, across the street, leaning against a street light, her head down. Buffy glanced at his new object of scrutiny. She was relieved to see that there actually was someone there this time. Only a few days ago, the Harbingers had been sending him visions of past victims.

"Do you know that person?" she inquired, puzzled. Angel knew very few people and tended not to circulate much, for obvious reasons.

"I met her," he answered after a moment's hesitation. He looked down at his feet, uncomfortable with the new subject. "When I… wasn't myself." Buffy needed no further explanation. When he was Angelus. Buffy still hadn't had the heart to talk about that time with him. It would forever be a closed subject between them. Unfortunately, she knew all too well what Angelus had been up to when he'd last been in control. With a sigh, she pulled a stake from her waistband. It would figure that she couldn't catch a break, even for Christmas. Since Angel was out and about, she should have known that other vampires would take advantage of the unnatural weather change.

She waited for a car to pass, but before she could cross the street, she felt the gentle restraint of Angel's hand on hers. She glanced up at him, puzzled. "She's not one," he shook his head. "At least she wasn't the last time I saw her." Buffy raised a confused eyebrow.

"How well did…he know her?" there was a mixture of curiosity, fear and jealousy in her voice and Angel couldn't honestly blame her for that.

"Not well," he shrugged. "It's a long story." Buffy bit her lip. As usual, Angel wasn't very forthcoming. She glanced back at the girl, who was now bending over to lift a plastic shopping bag up from the ground where it had been set. As the girl straightened up, they both saw her stiffen as she caught sight of Angel. Angel stared at her, surprised that she looked as well as she did. But he remembered then that it had been a long time since he'd seen her last. Months for her, but years, centuries for him. Slowly, the girl began to move towards them; the plastic shopping bag now cradled gently in her arms. She stopped right before Angel and held out the package for him. With confusion marring his brow, he took it from her.

"Marry Christmas Angel," the girl whispered, unshed tears shining in her eyes. Buffy was surprised to note that there was little fear in this girl and she wondered how the girl could feel no fear of what she had to assume…but no! The girl had said 'Angel'. She knew then that Angelus had been banished once more? Buffy glanced back at her boyfriend, noting that he had similar tears shining in his eyes and a much larger than normal smile on his face.

"Merry Christmas Dylan," he returned. The girl nodded once, then turned around and marched away. Her step much lighter than it had been before.

"You know Dylan McKenzie?" Buffy was surprised. She'd finally recognized the girl. She was a senior at Sunnydale High, but shared very few classes with Buffy and her friends.

"Yeah," Angel whispered, watching the girl walk away, his heart a little lighter. Someone up there really did want him to have a good day. "I know Dylan."


	2. Merry Christmas Angel

Title: Baby Doll

Author Restive Nature

Disclaimers: I do not own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series. They belong to the almighty Joss and I just play with them for my own amusement before putting them away neatly.

Spoilers: Buffy Season Three "Amends"

Summary: A teenage girl with mysterious ties to Angel helps him with his Christmas Amends.

Chapter One

Merry Christmas Angel

"So, what did she give you?" Buffy asked, her curious nature piqued to an intense level. Angel stared at her for a moment before he recalled the package he'd accepted from Dylan. He'd set it on the coffee table when they'd returned to the mansion from their walk. Angel had set about carefully building up a fire, as the mansion was pretty chilly. Only when Buffy had shivered slightly did he realize that. Colder temperatures didn't bother him, but Buffy was definitely a California sun girl.

"A package of some sort," he answered wryly. Buffy tilted her head at him.

"Ha, ha," she deadpanned. "I meant, what's in the package?"

"Sorry," he shrugged gently, thrusting his hands into his pockets. "My x-ray vision seems not to be working." Buffy's eyes widened, as mild irritation warred with her sense of humor.

"Okay," she muttered with a grin. "Something is definitely off. Angel just made with the funny."

"Sorry," he murmured again.

"No, it's okay," she assured him quickly. "I kind of like it." Angel nodded. He turned his gaze back to the innocuous package on the coffee table. She stood, waiting for him to open it, her curiosity about to make her explode. "Angel, it's just a bag, it's not gonna bite." A wry smile twisted her features a moment. "At least I hope it won't. Never can tell on a Hellmouth."

"I suppose," was his reply. Buffy sighed. Whatever had happened between Angelus and Dylan was obviously affecting Angel a great deal. To her relief, he finally sank to his knees and made to open the bag. Buffy sank down into the sofa, chewing apprehensively on her lower lip. The plastic bag rustled and Angel withdrew a large, flat, gaily wrapped present. A card slipped to the floor, but he didn't notice.

The paper that the present was wrapped in drew his eye. All over the package were bucolic scenes of the Victorian era. He remembered well those times. He eyed each individual scene, absorbing them all until Buffy cleared her throat. He looked to where she sat and realized that she was pointing at the floor, at the card. That had dropped. Angel set the gift down and picked up the card. He fingered the edge, increasingly aware of his unease at the thought of what Dylan may have gifted him with. And at the same time, the rise of his girlfriend's ire. With a sigh, he slid a finger under the sealed flap of the envelope and tore it open.

He slid out the card, obviously chosen to match the wrapping paper. The scene on the front depicted an old-fashioned sleigh ride through a snow filled forest. Angel flicked it open. The Greeting Card Company had imprinted the simple _'Greetings of the Season'_ on the cardstock. Underneath, Dylan had written _'best wishes'_ and had signed her name. Her full name. He'd never known before now. His gaze slid to the left, noticing that she'd written more.

__

'Dear Angel,' (he read) _I know that you weren't expecting to ever hear from me. And I understand that. The only reason I am giving you this gift is because the idea got in my mind and just wouldn't give me any peace until I did something about it. I hope you like this. If you don't, well, I doubt we'll see each other, so it doesn't really matter. D.'_

Angel read, then re-read the missive. With careful, precise actions, he arranged the card in the center of the table. It looked slightly forlorn sitting there. As if one lone conscionable person had taken pity and given a card to the person no one cared for and barely remembered. It was a disquieting feeling and surprised Angel in its intensity. He rose up off his knees. He really didn't like feeling pitied.

"Do you want something to drink?" he spoke rapidly. Buffy watched him, suspicion replacing curiosity. With a grimace, she shook her head, the patted the seat next to her. Angel dropped into it, resigned. He was familiar with the look on her face. She was determined to make him share.

"Angel, obviously something happened with Dylan that has you upset," she began. She didn't point out that she was upset as well as myriad potential images ran through her mind. "You know, I'll understand if something happened between you and her." She bit her lip. "I mean her and… him." She rubbed a distracted hand over her brow. "You know what I mean." He did, but shook his head.

"I know what you mean," he leaned back, watching her contemplatively. "But nothing ever happened." He saw her visibly relax and realized that she believed his demon capable of doing something along that nature. And in that same moment realized anew that at another time, Angelus would have done precisely that. But both he and his demon were obsessed with Buffy. Angelus desired to punish Buffy for being such an important part of the soul that it fought to repress. And hurting Buffy was self-punishment in another form. Knowing that on some level Angel would be aware of her pain, was ample reason for Angelus to torment her. It was punishment for the soul for daring to invade what the demon felt was its rightful possession.

"Really nothing?" her voice was hopeful.

"Well, I talked to her occasionally," he shrugged, wincing inwardly. It was more like snarling, when Angelus had deigned to speak to her.

"So why are you wiggging over the gift?" Buffy asked astutely. Angel smirked easily at her in his own style.

"Because I don't understand why," he answered truthfully. "I mean, with the last she saw of me…" he trailed off suggestively. Buffy thought for a moment before nodding.

"Maybe it's booby trapped," she exclaimed. She leaned forward, her fingers itching to rip the paper off and prove herself right or wrong. But then she sat back. "When she knew you, did she call you Angel?"

"No," he thought back, sifting through the few memories that had to do with the girl. "She never spoke my name. Except once." He looked at his girlfriend, resigned. "She knew I was Angelus."

"But this morning, she called you Angel," Buffy mentioned. They were silent, bot digesting this. "She knew that you have your soul."

"I guess."

"Wow," Buffy murmured. "We finally manage to find someone in Sunnydale aside from the gang who doesn't automatically suppress things or shrug them off." She shuddered at the thought. That was definitely not of the normal. In a town with Vampires, various demons and the mystical force of the Hellmouth, selective memory was the hallmark of sanity retention.

"It would have taken a lot to repress that stuff last year," Angel noted with discomfort.

"You know, all I remember about Dylan was that she had to repeat senior year because she missed a lot of school," Buffy mused. She didn't notice her boyfriend's sharp look. Her face brightened a moment. "You know, I think she even beat me in the "missed classes" event of academic aptitude." Angel could suppress the chuckle that rumbled from him at her use of big words. And her surprise when she realized that her usage was essentially correct. "So," she drawled.

"So?"

"You're not gonna open the gift, huh?" she grinned.

"I will," Angel protested. "I just think-!"

"Argh!" Buffy growled suddenly. "Sometimes Angel, you think too much."

"I have a lot of time on my hands," he agreed.

"All right," Buffy seemed to come to a decision. She planted her feet on the floor and pushed off the sofa. "No more thinking today." She pulled on her coat and tossed him his. "Come on, snow angel!"

"What?" he stared at his jacket, then at her.

"Snow angel," she smiled, knowing he was misinterpreting her.

"I know." He still looked puzzled, glancing out the window. It was frosted over from the cold. Buffy rolled her eyes and hurried out the door. Angel threw a glance at the fire, making sure it was banked properly before following her. She was in the courtyard, lying in the snow when he emerged. Her face was aglow with childish delight and impish mischief. She held up an arm and obligingly helped her up. She moved carefully to avoid disrupting the image she had made.

"See?" she giggled, pointing at the ground. "Snow angel."

Angel tilted his head, as if contemplating a great work of art. He'd caught on. The image evoked memories of his human days, playing similarly in cold weather as a boy. He knew Buffy was watching for a reaction from him. "No," he finally spoke. "I'd say that's definitely a snow Buffy." She laughed again. The purity of the sound lifted some of the gloom that had fallen over him earlier. And seeing her reaction, Angel promised himself that he would keep it at bay for as long as possible. He wanted to make the day worthwhile for both of them.

He had answers now. And while he wasn't very happy with the scheme that had brought him back from hell, he'd learned something else. He was important. Some part of him had worth. He had love from Buffy. And he had acceptance. It was a strange feeling. To know that the powers of good fought for him to be as he was. It was punishing, living with the guilt of not only his demon's past misdeeds, but also his own personal sins. Before he'd been turned, his life had been full of sin. It had been a fruitless attempt at rebellion against the imagined constriction on his life. And yet, at the same time, the behavior he'd displayed had also been expected of him. By his family, his friends and by the society he lived in.

When his soul had been returned to him, he'd become painfully aware of those transgressions as well. And that was part of his guilt. Because, even though the deeds he'd performed were a spectrum apart, sin was sin. And he was unable to separate man from demon because of this. So no matter how many people said that Angelus was the monster, Angel the man, in his soul, he knew better. But now, the importance of what he was trying to be was coming to light. As Whistler had illustrated those many years ago, Angel was going to be someone to be counted upon.

So he allowed Buffy to lead him about town. She wanted to play, re-capture some of the innocence that had been unfairly stripped from their lives. They stopped once briefly, so that Buffy could call her mother and assure her and Faith that she was well. And that she would be home in time for dinner. She also promised her sister Slayer that she would explain all. After that, they visited the park where Buffy occasionally slayed.

It was a wonder to Angel to see it brimming full of life. Children played en masse. Parents enjoyed steaming cups of thermos heated coffee. Some parents even joined in their offspring's play, freed from the daily grind the centered their lives on. Teenagers, those that weren't still preoccupied with that they'd received, were wandering about with their friends. No doubt, they were discussing said gifts. Buffy chose an unoccupied picnic table and brushed the puffy, glittering snow from it. They both sat and watched more of the joyous antics before them.

"So, tell me about Dylan," Buffy broke the interlude, her words pouring from her in a rush.

"What about her?" Angel asked warily.

"I don't know, anything," Buffy shrugged, unable to meet his eyes. She was, if she were honest with herself, more than slightly jealous that this woman knew a part of Angel that she didn't. For so long, it had been her and Angel against the world. And she could handle the terrible threesome of Angelus, Spike and Drusilla. They had been together long before she'd been born. But now Dylan was somehow thrown into the mix and had come out of it alive and unscathed. It was puzzling and Buffy despised puzzles. She sighed. "I guess it doesn't matter."

"She liked to take pictures," Angel recalled, a small smile playing on his lips. Buffy's head jerked up. She studied his face, before apparently deciding that the revelation wasn't a bad one.

"What else?"

"Let's see, she's left-handed," his brow furrowed as he tried to recall what, if anything Angelus had noticed about the teen. "She was very quiet. Oh, and she liked Chinese food."

"That's it?" Buffy was astonished. "Boy, you really were serious when you said you barely knew her."

"No," Angel agreed. "She certainly didn't loom large in my mind."

"So, how did you meet her?" she moved on to the next logical question. Angel grimaced. Another bad memory was all she could surmise. "You know what, never mind. There are a lot more fun things we could be doing right now than talking about another woman." Angel's eyes lit up at the teasing tone in her voice.

"Things?" he whispered, as his head descended towards her. She tilted her head back to see his eyes. She made one small, squeaking protest as his cool lips brushed over hers.

Many hours, kisses and companionable silences later, Buffy realized the time and with one more kiss, said her good-byes. Angel watched her hurry off, a little ache in his chest. She was off to the part of her life that would never accommodate him. He watched until she was out of sight, then pushed up off the bench they'd been sitting on. The park was nearly empty, save for some teenagers. It was going to be dark again soon, as in evening, and most people in the town knew that their homes were the safest place to be, even on Christmas. So with a sigh, Angel began to trudge back to the mansion, wishing desperately that he had someone waiting for him to come home to.


	3. The Gift

Title: Baby Doll

Author Restive Nature

Disclaimers: I do not own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series. They belong to the almighty Joss and I just play with them for my own amusement before putting them away neatly.

Spoilers: Buffy Season Three "Amends"

Summary: A teenage girl with mysterious ties to Angel helps him with his Christmas Amends.

Chapter Two

The Gift

Angel made his way back to the mansion, entering the living room to find that the fire he'd left had pretty much burned itself out. There were a few glowing embers, deep in the pile of ash. Angel grimaced ruefully to himself. That was how he felt sometimes. That often, there were deeply hidden sparks within the dead body, taunting him. Could they burn, ignite the life around him? Or would they burn out, useless lumps of charred wood? And if they did burn, what would become of him, to whom all flame was deadly. Sometimes he wanted to burn, just to know that he was capable of feeling something. Physical, mental, it didn't matter. As long as it wasn't the all-consuming guilt that overrode his soul.

Angel shook his head. It was difficult work, keeping his maudlin self at bay. He knew that he had love now to keep him going. To keep him strong, but in the dark of night, by himself, it was easy to forget. He knelt down before the fireplace. With ease, he used the poker to stir up the ashes and embers, making way for more wood. He waited until the fresh kindling began to burn, then expertly arranged the logs. He pulled back from an especially nasty snapping log. How many mothers since the dawn of time had warned their children, don't play with fire? It seemed an especially good lesson right at that moment.

Angel rose and made his way to the sofa, his soft footfalls echoing in the cavernous room. He plunked down into the seat before the coffee table. The minimal light from the fire caught in some of the silver of the gift still lying there. Tempting him. With a sigh, he finally pulled the gift onto his lap. He steeled himself against whatever it was that Dylan believed he needed to have. The gift was flat, moderately large and if his fingers weren't deceiving him, felt like something framed. With a strange snapping sound, the tape broke under his probing fingers. Angel unfolded one end of the wrapping paper, neatly done up, and extracted precisely what he surmised it to be. A picture frame. And once he'd pulled it completely out, his jaw dropped.

It was a portrait. Of him and Buffy. Angel stared at it, mesmerized. Never had he and Buffy ever posed in such a manner, that he could recall. Staring up at him from the frame, was the two of them. In the picture, Angel was behind Buffy, his arms clearly wrapped around her, though it only showed them from the shoulders up. It was as if the two of them were posing for a photograph, but at the last second, were captivated by each other. Angel's face was caught in a semi-profile, smiling gently down at his beloved. Buffy's face was slightly tilted toward him. But her eyes. Oh, her eyes sparkled up at him, love, mischief and purity of soul beckoning him, just as she did whenever she came near him. But it wasn't a picture. Someone had painted this. Angel's eyes flickered momentarily to the bottom right, but he saw nothing. Until he looked closely at the fabric of what he assumed was his clothing.

He turned the portrait sideways, to make out the signature. It was done in such a way that it looked like embroidery along the seam of the fabric. D. McKenzie. Dylan had painted this. Angel was stunned. He'd always enjoyed drawing or sketching. He'd never stepped into the realm of color and paint and depth of emotion like this. Everything he created had only ever been to satisfy his needs for a creative outlet for his memories. Or, in Angelus' case, to torment someone. He'd never created something solely for the purpose of pleasing someone else. Oh sure, people would admire his sketches. But they were never about wanting someone else to see. To see what, he didn't know. Perhaps it was an artist's light that shone; giving life to things not her own. Perhaps it was the risk of putting herself out there for people to judge. It was something Angel was unable to do with his art.

His eyes moved back to the portrait. It pricked in his mind, this strange feeling that he should have recognized this moment in time. But he did not. And he wondered how Dylan could have known about him and Buffy being together like this. To his knowledge, she'd never seen them together before today. It came back to him, what Buffy had said. Dylan attended Sunnydale High School. Perhaps she'd seen them together in the library. Or maybe at the Bronze. They had been together at a few places aside from the cemetery, his apartment and her bedroom. The multitude of possibilities was kind of nice. Most of those places had some good memories. He spent a relaxed few minutes, picturing himself and Buffy in that pose in each of those places. But none of it clicked.

Finally, with deliberate care, he stood and shuffled over to the mantle. He centered the portrait there and gazed at it some more. He was pleased that his eyes hadn't been playing tricks on him. The love between them was still shining through the portrait. He backed up, and could still see it. It occurred to him then that he shouldn't have waited to open this. Buffy would have loved it. And perhaps wanted it for herself. He chuckled, deep in his chest. Yes, she was a possessive girl. But he also knew that she wouldn't begrudge this gift.

Angel nearly smacked his forehead, he felt so suddenly stupid. He spun around and snatched up the card. Buffy should have this portrait. It didn't come from any time that held bad memories for them. It wouldn't be a reminder about the painful things. He was almost certain that it had been painted from a time before the badness had started. A plan began to form in his mind. He'd track down Dylan and see if she'd recreate this masterpiece. And it would be his gift to Buffy. For her love, her friendship, for all the things that she tried to be for him. For her strength. It was a good plan. And now that he had it in mind, Angel couldn't wait. He grabbed up his coat again and as it swung around his body, his arms roughly thrusting into the sleeves, he caught sight of the fire burning merrily.

"Why do I even light these?" he laughed aloud. He slipped the card from Dylan into his pocket, then knelt to bank the flames for the second time that day. He certainly didn't want a fire burning up his new possession. Just to be safe, Angel removed it from the mantle and brought it to a table on the opposite side of the room. He propped it up and with one last tender glance, ventured out into the cold. _'Time to go hunting,' _he thought to himself.

It was remarkably easy to track her down. A stop at the nearest gas station, a quick thumbing through the phone book and there was her address. Angel noted that she appeared to live a few streets over from Willow. He memorized her address and let the heavy book fall back to its carefree sway under the battered telephone. As he began the trek to Dylan's place, he mulled over why her name was in the phone book. If she was still in school, shouldn't she be living with her parents? There were many possibilities to consider. It was most likely that she had her own telephone number. From what Buffy had let slip, not that she was secretive about it, most teenage girls loved chatting over the phone. And it was a very common occurrence for parents to set up a secondary line for their children. Just so they didn't have to deal with the hassle of answering the phone every two minutes.

Angel arrived at the McKenzie household and took a moment to absorb the feeling emanating from the building. He could sum it all up in one word, lonely. The house was void of Christmas decorations. The new fallen snow had no tracks in it. No one had been in, out or to the house at all this day. And a solitary light burned in what was most likely the living room. Angel wondered if maybe the McKenzie's had left after he'd seen Dylan this morning. That was plausible. They maybe had relatives to visit. With a mental shrug, Angel decided that the only way he would find out was to go to the door and knock. That, or call. And he'd seemed to leave that notion behind at the gas station.

He sensed the movement in the house moments after he employed the brass doorknocker. The door swung open just a little as familiar eyes peered out into the night. There was a pause, and Dylan let the door open fully. She stared at him, bewildered, not understanding why he was there. He tried to remain… peaceful. He didn't want to alarm her. "Hey Dylan," he greeted her softly.

"Angel," she replied. She moved a little forward and rested against the doorjamb. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to say thank you," he smiled, picturing the portrait in his mind.

"You're welcome," she made it seem like a question. She tilted her head, studying him. "But I kind of get the sense that that's not the only reason you stopped by."

"No it's not," Angel nodded. "I actually have a favor to ask. About the portrait."

"Oh, okay," she bit her lip. "Why don't you come in then?" She stepped back to allow him entry. He entered swiftly; letting her shut the cold air out. He turned back to her.

"Um, just a word of warning," he half-smirked. "Vampires can't enter your house unless you invite them. I think you know I won't hurt you, but in the future…" he trailed off suggestively. She looked up at him, sadness in her eyes.

"I know." Two simple words that held a wealth of emotion. Angel felt bad, seeing that emotion in her face. Obviously the past had scarred her more than he had thought. "Would you like to sit down?" she gestured to the living room and then followed her guest inside. Angel took a seat at one end of a large sofa, set against the window. Dylan chose a chair close by. Angel had made a sweeping glance around the room, surprised to see that there were no decorations inside either.

"I suppose I should make this quick," Angel began. "I should have waited until tomorrow, but I was anxious to talk to you. I hope you'll give your parents my apologies for bothering you today." Dylan gave her head a little shake.

"They're… not here," she whispered. Angel squinted at her, sensing immediately that something wasn't being said.

"They left you alone on Christmas?" he asked softly. It didn't seem right to him. But thinking about Buffy and some of her friends, he'd come to realize that family just didn't mean what it used to. "Or do you not celebrate Christmas?" The words were out of his mouth before he could think about what he'd said. As she averted her eyes, he'd realized he'd managed to offend her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so rude."

"It's okay," she shrugged. "Just didn't feel like celebrating this year." He could relate to that.

"Oh," he muttered. "Will they be back soon?" He saw her wince and wondered how bad relations in her family must be for her to dread their return.

"Hopefully never," she murmured. That did it. His mind was screaming at him that something wasn't right. And in his newfound sense of purpose, he wanted to do something about it. But the truth was, he didn't quite know how to go about it.

"Dylan?" he finally began. "They don't… hurt you, do they?" Again, there was shock in her eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she gasped. "No, I should have explained. My parents… passed away this past summer." Again, the pause, something not being said.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, leaning forward to gauge the depth of her pain surrounding the incident. "How?"

"Not long after I… got home, they were out late, at a party," she explained haltingly. "Their car broke down. Instead of calling for help, they decided to… walk home. They were… attacked."

"Vampires?" he didn't really have to ask. But she nodded anyway.

"The police found their bodies on the side of the road," she continued. "The official report was that they were attacked by a rabid dog. We buried them. I wasn't sure, you know, if I'd see them again."

"Did you?"

"The next night," she confirmed. Her parents had been turned. "They came to the house. Tried to get me to invite them in. I didn't, of course. They went away after that. I think… I hope Buffy got them." She shivered, the pain of having to contemplate her parent's death twice, still an uneasy thought.

"I'm so sorry," again all he could do was apologize, sympathize. But it did make him wonder why she was able to trust him.

"It's okay," she gave him a sad smile. "I've been learning to deal with it. One day at a time."

"I guess that's all you can do," Angel nodded, sitting back. He wondered if she'd been able to talk to anyone about it. It was never good to keep feelings bottled up inside. He was a walking example of that. But in reality, who was there equipped to deal with his entire emotional and psychological trauma. "Things will get better if you want them to." Even as he said it, he could feel the déjà vu sliding over him. He jerked his head a little, trying to identify why those words were important.

"Oh, you do remember," Dylan chuckled. He glanced up sharply at her. How had she known what he was feeling? They studied each other. "Or maybe you don't."

"Remember what?" he cast his thoughts back over his most recent time as Angelus. But nothing was clear. Dylan pushed herself up from her seat and made her way to the bookcase. She knelt before it, perusing some of the albums lined up in the bottom shelf. Finally, she pulled one loose and brought it back to the sofa. She set the large, white book in his lap. Resuming her seat, she nodded at it. Angel carefully flipped it open. He was surprised to see what looked to be photos of a funeral. He flipped through a few pages, before coming to some group photos. And finally saw what had been eluding him.

"Oh."


	4. New York, New York

Title: Baby Doll

Author Restive Nature

Disclaimers: I do not own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series. They belong to the almighty Joss and I just play with them for my own amusement before putting them away neatly.

Spoilers: Buffy Season Three "Amends"

Chapter Three

New York, New York

"I can't believe I didn't recognize you," Angel wondered as he glanced back and forth between the photo and Dylan.

"Well," she smiled slightly, "it's been ten years, and I do clean up well." Angel simply nodded. All this time that he'd known her yet hadn't. But at least the words he'd spoken earlier that she'd smiled over, he knew where that came from now. His hand gently flipped the pages of the photo album back to the front page. He studied the photos of the funeral. He searched his brain for a moment and thought back to that fateful day.

"Your grandfather?" he didn't really need to ask, but she nodded anyway.

"Everyone always thought it was morbid to take pictures of a funeral," she scoffed. "I think it was worse of my mom to take a picture of me after that little spill."

"It certainly made me wonder," he smirked. He flipped back to that page again, looking down at the little girl he'd met under sadder conditions.

"My mother was hassled over that," Dylan recalled wistfully. "Apparently, the printer's were a little overzealous and called the cops on her. That was a bad year."

"I can imagine," Angel agreed as he finally closed the cover and laid the album on the coffee table before him. "But on the other hand, if he'd turned a blind eye…" he trailed off suggestively.

"I know," Dylan nodded. "Maybe the guy saved somebody. Maybe not." She rubbed her hands gently over her lap, as if trying to warm suddenly cold fingers. "Oh, can I get you something to drink? I have tea, or coffee. Hot cocoa maybe?" Angel wasn't really interested in a beverage, but he sensed immediately that she needed something to do.

"Tea would be nice, thank you." She gave him a tremulous smile and rose gracefully from her chair. She moved to what he knew had to be the kitchen and he followed after her sedately. He watched from the doorway as she moved about, setting a teakettle to boil on the stove. She took two large mugs from a cupboard, and from another, sugar. She added spoons, then began setting out box after box of different teas. Angel chuckled and moved to the opposite side of the island counter she was at. He picked up the first box she had set out; noting absentmindedly that it was Dru's favorite kind.

"I know," she smiled shyly. "I have a lot of tea."

"So you really didn't mind the tea parties then?" he joked back gently. He gauged her reaction and was pleased to see that she wasn't overset by the reference to that dark time.

"No," she laughed. "They were fun. But Dru kept forgetting that drinking two pots of tea in one sitting caused certain problems." Angel thought a moment before making the connection. The idiosyncrasies of the human body. They were silent as they waited for the water to boil. Once it had, she gestured for Angel to chose a flavor, which he did at random. She chose her own and while the teas steeped, she returned the others to the cupboard. Finally, she loaded up the tray. Angel took it from her and they returned to the living room.

"You know," Dylan commented as her spoon clinked softly against the mug, the sugar swiftly dissolving, "I used to drink tea with my grandpa every morning when I was there during summer vacation." Angel didn't need to clarify which of her grandfather's she was referring to.

"That sounds nice."

"He used to make me peanut butter and jelly toast sandwiches," she grinned. She brought her mug to her nose and inhaled. She blew across the surface of the liquid, then took a small sip. She let the mug settle in her hands in her lap and stared down dreamily. "I don't think I've had one since then."

"Some memories deserve to be treasured and looked back on with fondness," he leaned forward. He knew that very well first hand.

"He was making one for me when he died," she confessed softly, still staring down at her mug. Angel cocked his head to one side. He recognized the look in her eyes immediately.

"You blamed yourself, didn't you?" Again, it was more a statement than a question. She simply nodded.

"I was angry for a long time because of it," she sighed. "Well, not really angry. Hurt of course, and mad at myself. I said a lot of things and lashed out at almost everyone." She winced at remembered pain. "After the coroner took the…body, I told my grandma that it was her fault. That if she'd gotten up to cook like other grandma's, then he'd have been fine." He didn't reply. She looked him straight in the eye for her next confession. "I told her that she should have been the one to die."

New York, 1989

The little girl ran. She had been running for blocks and blocks now. Her chest was hurting from the exertion of her running. But more than that, there was a pain in her heart. A tight, squeezy feeling. As if someone had wrapped a rubber band around it that was gradually getting smaller and smaller. The girl stopped a moment, wrapping her arms around a street lamp as she gasped for breath. But as she panted, silent tears streaming down her face, a melange of memories overwhelmed her, causing the tears to fall faster. The wrinkled face of her beloved grandfather. Smiling down at her as he teased her for her hair sticking up at odd angles. He'd called her 'cowlick'. She'd frowned and whined. It was all part of their morning routine. A special time just for them in the morning. But then, the strange coloring in his face. His mouth pinched gaping open and shut, like a fish she'd once seen at the pet store.

The little girl remembered getting up from the table, just as her grandfather clutched his left forearm. The next happened so swiftly, but the little girl would see it forever in her mind's eye. He started to fall; she took one step forward. But he was on the floor before she could move forward. She stared at him, unable to move, caught in the kaleidoscope of swiftly moving events. She watched as the ruddy coloring faded from his cheeks, to be replaced by a motley gray. The fingers, digging into his own arm had gone lax and his head lolled to the side. The little girl had slipped to her knees then. She'd crawled forward, hesitant, not understanding why her grandpa was on the floor.

She'd reached out one tentative hand, then snatched it back, fearful. She'd whispered something to him, a plea to get up. But he didn't respond. The little girl was scared. Unconsciously, she'd begun rocking back and forth on her hands and knees, a small, quiet keening building in the back of her throat. Finally, the scream emerged. "Grandpa!" She'd screamed it over and over again until the din finally woke her grandmother. The little girl didn't register the slap of the old woman's bare feet as she ran into the kitchen. Or the shocked gasp. All she knew was the grasping arms trying to pull her away from the macabre scene. And then she fought. Her grandpa needed her. Once her grandmother had managed to subdue her flailing arms by locking her in a strong grip, she'd used her only defense left. Her voice and words.

"It's all your fault!" the little girl screamed. "Why couldn't' you get up and make breakfast? He should have stayed in bed. It's your fault. Why couldn't you be a normal grandma? It's all your fault!" The older woman didn't' respond, just sat on the floor, her only grandchild locked in her embrace. She'd averted her face, but the girl felt the warm splash of tears on her head. She renewed her struggles and finally, the woman could hold her no longer. The girl scrambled away, to huddle in the corner, nursing her sudden resentment so she wouldn't have to focus on her beloved grandfather.

She didn't care that the older woman struggled to her feet, or that she was calling an ambulance. The girl watched the rest of the morning unfold. The paramedics arriving, checking over her grandfather. Then another man arrived, dressed like her grandpa did when they went to church. And finally, the paramedics gently lifting grandpa onto the rolling bed and taking him away from her forever. She'd tried to run after them, but her grandmother had latched onto her again. She heard the vehicles pull away and screamed out her rage. She'd yanked her wrist free and venomously spat out those hateful words again. "It's all your fault!" And then she'd run from the house, determined to find her grandfather.

But now, wrapped in silence around the lamppost, she felt worse. It wasn't' grandma's fault. It was hers. Grandpa wouldn't have been up if it hadn't been for her. She always had to have her peanut butter, cherry jelly toast sandwich. And only grandpa could make it. It was her fault and hers alone. And that fact alone pushed her to keep running. She was a bad girl. A wicked little girl to have said such things. And so it was in her mind that when she heard the police siren, she became scared. She was convinced that they were after her. She'd run away after killing her grandpa. So she did the only thing she could, she ducked into an alley and hid.

She was scared in the dingy alley. And she knew it wasn't safe. But she was more scared of the disappointment she would be sure to see on the faces of her family. She couldn't go back, so she went forward. Deeper into the alley, until she finally came to the dead end. Except, it wasn't. There was a door. Curious despite herself, the girl tried the handle and the door creaked open. With one last shuddering glance at the coolly dark alleyway, she slipped inside. The door shut and she was encased in a musty grayness, neither dark nor light. She listened, but heard nothing now. Moving carefully she stumbled forward, looking only to find a quiet place to hide away. She never noticed the other occupant in the abandoned warehouse.

"You know," Angel broke into her reverie. "I don't think I've ever heard someone scream as loudly as you did."

"Well what did you expect?" Dylan scoffed. "I was a kid and there was this freaky guy staring at me, not two inches from my face." Angel grimaced. Compared to his life now, he'd been very anti-social then.

"I suppose that was what made you run away?"

Dylan sighed. "That was part of it. I just wanted to be …away… for a while."

"I know that feeling," he agreed. "It's just too bad you didn't get very far." He could recall now with crystal clarity, following after her as she ran. She'd stumbled and taken a header straight onto a cinder block, knocking herself into oblivion.

"I don't know whether my mother was more freaked out by my running away or than by the scars I ended up with."

"Probably both," Angel shrugged. It was the way most parents were.

"I know she was glad that you were there and took me to the hospital," Dylan commented quickly. Angel's head snapped up in surprise. Her mother had been a wailing mess the last time he'd seen her. Flying into the emergency room, hair flying everywhere, not paying attention to the doctors until she'd ascertained that her child was alive. Then she'd rounded on him, thanking him profusely for saving her child. It was a lot for him to handle then, especially with the scent of blood invading his senses. He'd extricated himself as quickly as he could and left. His duty was done.

"Really?" he finally murmured.

"Yep," Dylan confirmed, a small smile on her face, remembering. "She kept going on about 'that wonderful Good Samaritan' who saved her baby." There was a small chuckle. Angel looked down at his now clenched hands.

"Good Samaritan," he mumbled, then snorted softly. "Yeah, that's me."


	5. Girls Night Out

Title: Baby Doll

Author Restive Nature

Disclaimers: I do not own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series. They belong to the almighty Joss and I just play with them for my own amusement before putting them away neatly.

Spoilers: Buffy Season Three "Amends"

Chapter Four

Girls Night Out

"So," Angel was hesitant to ask, but his curiosity was peaked. "How did you end up with Spike and Dru?" He was glad to see that Dylan didn't look too upset. In fact, she seemed to be expecting this. She seemed down right jovial about it.

"Kind of a long story," she shrugged, with a small smile playing at her lips. "Do you really want to know?"

"I think I do," Angel nodded. "its not often you see a human living with vampires, unless they're being-!" He suddenly realized what he was about to say and stopped himself short.

"Being what?" Dylan smirked. It seemed she knew what he was going to say. "Being fattened up?"

"Uh, yeah," Angel looked down at his hands, still holding the lukewarm mug of tea. It really wasn't a pleasant idea.

"Well," Dylan sighed and leaned back in her seat. "It happened after Parent/ Teacher night. You know what happened that night, right?"

"When Spike attacked the school because he couldn't wait for the Night of Saint Vigeous?"

"Exactly," Dylan nodded and took a quick sip of tea. "Well, my parents had gone in early for their interviews and left before any of that happened. They were fairly pleased with what my teachers had to say. You know, the still waters run deep sort of crap." He looked puzzled at her words. "I mean, even though I was shy and the new girl, I was adjusting well and making friends and keeping my grades up."

"Every parents dream," he noted quietly.

"So, they decided that since I was doing well, they were going to let me sleep over at my friend Shannon's house for the weekend. And I was allowed to go to the Bronze and stay out a little later than normal."

"Which I take was not the best idea?" Angel smirked.

"I think everything would have been fine," Dylan shrugged, "but for one little thing I did. It was stupid, really. But back then, I wasn't exactly thinking like I should have been."

"Oh?"

"Hey Mom!" Dylan called down to her mother from the head of the stairs.

"Yes dear?" her mother's soft voice floated up to her.

"Tell Shannon to come up to my room when she gets here," Dylan asked loudly to ensure her mother heard. "I haven't decided what I'm going to wear tonight yet."

"All right dear," her mother's voice answered. Dylan could hear the amusement in the woman's voice. It wasn't often that Dylan got excited about things. But finally being allowed to go to the Bronze and be able to stay later than ten o'clock was pretty amazing in her books. It was always embarrassing trying to explain to her friends why she had an earlier curfew than they did, even on weekends. And it was even worse when her father would show up to get her at precisely said time. At least she'd finally managed to convince her dad to wait outside the club in the car. And she made certain he never had the excuse to come in and get her again.

Dylan's hands pushed through the pile of clothes amassed at the foot of her bed. There weren't a lot of choices, but she had no idea what to chose. Her hand lingered over some pieces, and she experimentally held them up to herself and perused her image in the mirror. Finally, she heard the doorbell ring and the soft murmured greetings by her mother. After a few moments, Shannon was in her room, offering expert advice.

In twenty minutes, they had the outfit picked out and Dylan escaped to the bathroom to put it on. She returned to her room and with Shannon's help, applied her make-up. While she'd been changing, Shannon had sweetly picked up the few odd clothes left out and put them away. Dylan grabbed her coat, and the knapsack she'd filled with her clothes for the sleepover. With a hug and a kiss for each parent, they soon left the house, giggling like the schoolgirls they were.

They decided to go straight to the Bronze, since Dylan's clothing indecision had made them late to meet their other two friends, Cindy and Karen. They made plans for the weekend in the drive over in Shannon's used Saturn. All in all, it looked to be a good evening. They left their non-essentials in the car and Shannon made sure to lock it up before heading into the club. They didn't care if the music pulsing all around them was live or a DJ, it had a good beat and they were ready to dance. They hooked up with their friends, found a table, got their drinks and began to party.

After a few hours, mindless exhaustion began to set in. The kind that came from the relief of stress, too much sugar-enhanced soda and constant motion on the dance floor. And that was what made Dylan spill her drink on herself. There was mocking laughter and clapping from those around her that had seen. She blushed of course, not used to being the center of attention in a large group. With sympathy, Shannon handed over her car keys so that Dylan could get a dry shirt from her knapsack. The poor girl hurried from the club and down the alleyway to where the car was parked. The driver's side door was closest and she figured she could reach her bag from there. But as she leaned over to unlock the door, she felt something hard poke her in the back.

She stiffened at once, wondering if one of the guys from school was playing some sick little joke on her. Until she heard the voice. "Nice car, luv." She shivered involuntarily. The cool British drawl made her insides freeze. "Now be a nice little bird and get in." She didn't move. "Don't worry, I won't hurt you." She knew immediately that that was a lie. But with the thing in her back, was it a gun? She didn't see that she had much choice. She opened the car door and slid in. "Move on over," came the next command. She obediently climbed into the passenger seat, picking up her knapsack out of the way.

Her attacker slid in after her, softly yanking the door shut with a quiet click. Dylan's mind was racing. How on earth was she going to get out of this? But then, her assailant turned to her, and she knew she wasn't. "Keys, luv," he smirked, holding out her hands. She turned her head slowly, her heart almost stopping. For there, in the driver's seat of her best friend's car was Spike. William the Bloody. The color drained from her face as she shakily handed over the keys. She watched in morbid fascination as he withdrew his left hand from the pocket of his duster and gripped the steering wheel while his other hand inserted the key into the ignition. He smoothly started the vehicle and pulled away from the curb, attracting no undue attention in the normality of his actions.

They'd been driving for about ten minutes when Dylan finally found the courage to speak. "W-where are we going?" she asked, her voice husky from fear.

"Oh, don't worry luv," Spike grinned. "We aren't going far." Dylan gaped at him. He was being so gentle with her. She'd been expecting him to attack her from the first moment he'd slid into the car. But some rationale part of her mind that was caustically commenting on everything reasonably pointed out that he was probably driving her to some deserted spot to enjoy a leisurely meal.

"You're going to kill me, aren't you?" she asked in a tiny voice. Shockingly, he made a surprised sound, and his right hand quickly patted her on the knee. He seemed to try and make the movement comforting, but for Dylan, whose nerves she was barely hanging onto, it was a threatening gesture. She jumped at the contact, then shrank away from him. He gave her a patronizing look, then turned his attention back to the road.

"As a matter of fact," he smiled evilly, "I'm not going to kill you." Well, that was a switch. He was a killer. That was generally what killers did Or had he come up with a new word for what he did to his victims?

"Then what do you want with me?" she gasped as soon as she said those words. Visions of fates aside from death began to play through her mind. There were other things depraved maniacs did in deserted areas of town. No one could watch the news anymore without hearing about those types of things.

"I've got a friend who needs help," Spike shrugged, seeming to enjoy his little game. Dylan realized at once that he was completely unaware that she was aware of the reality of his Vampiric nature. "Woman friend," he elaborated. "You're going to help her." Dylan again gaped at his words. Woman friend? She closed her eyes as new despair swept through her. Woman friend. That could only mean…Drusilla. Damn! She was definitely dead.

Spike pulled into what appeared to be a factory parking lot. He left the keys in the vehicle and exited gracefully. Dylan watched in morbid fascination as he walked around the front to her door. It was pulled open and he waited a moment before making an imperious gesture. She shakily obeyed, wondering how quickly he'd catch her if she ran. She briefly considered slamming him over the head with the knapsack still in her hands. But as it was only heavy from clothes, and not say, a lot of bricks, she knew it wouldn't help. It would only serve to royally piss him off. And it was too late anyway. Three others had wandered outside at the noise of the vehicle approaching.

Spike grabbed her by the closest upper arm and began to drag her stumbling form towards the building. "Get rid of the car," he ordered the others. "Far away from here. Don't want it found too quickly." The others put their heads together for a small conference, but Dylan's attention was shifted away from them as Spike pushed her through the entryway. "Dru luv? I'm home."

Angel was trying to smother a chuckle. Dylan of course noticed and raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm sorry," he apologized quickly. "It's just… I'm very surprised that Spike actually was paying attention to details." Dylan laughed as well.

"Yeah," she agreed. "Not a lot of his plans worked out so well." She paused for a moment, her fingers absently tracing the rim of her mug. "I found out later that his minions drove in two cars to LA. They dumped Shannon's car in a bad section of town. I guess the criminal element made short work of it."

"That's not surprising," Angel shrugged.

"Well, by doing that, they made it look as if I had run away," Dylan explained. "The cops talked to my friends, whose last memories were of me being humiliated. And since Shannon's car was gone, they just naturally assumed I'd show up somewhere eventually."

"I really doubt that Spike thought that out," Angel smiled again. His grandchilde's forays into logical thought could sometimes be astounding in the way they went wrong.

"Nope," Dylan sighed. "His only thought was taking care of Dru."


	6. Miss Edith Needs Her Tea

Title: Baby Doll

Author Restive Nature

Disclaimers: I do not own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series. They belong to the almighty Joss and I just play with them for my own amusement before putting them away neatly.

Spoilers: Buffy Season Three "Amends"

Chapter Five

Miss Edith Needs Her Tea

"So Spike car-jacked you?" Angel smirked. He had no trouble picturing the idiot trying that tact. Then he recalled what Dylan had said about Spike poking her in the back with something. "Did he really have a gun?" She stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing.

"No!" she giggled. She held up her hand in the classic gun pose and waved it at him. "It was his stupid finger." Angel goggled at her then began to laugh as well. It was so typically Spike. "But I didn't know that for sure," she defended herself. "And I mean, he had other weapons at his disposal." Angel quit laughing abruptly at that. As childlike as his childer could be, they were at their basis, vicious killers.

"Yeah, he did," Angel nodded. "So he brought you back there for Dru to… to feed on you?"

"Yep," she nodded slowly. She took another sip of tea, then set the mug on the coffee table before her. "One of his minions said that she'd just woken up again, so he dragged me off to her room."

"Hello pet," Spike cooed as he entered his dark Princess' sanctuary. She presented a wonderful picture, stretched out languidly on the large bed, her dark locks tumbled about her pale face.

"My Spike," she whispered as she slowly drew one arm up to him. Letting go of Dylan, he hurried forward to press a gentle kiss against her wrist. Her other arm was occupied in cradling her precious doll. Spike carefully seated himself on the bed, so he wouldn't jar her. "You found what you were looking for," she told him breathily.

"I did," he confirmed, a glint in his crystalline blue eyes. He turned back to look at the slightly cowering teen still standing in the door. She was definitely unsure of herself, as well she should be. "A little gift for my black Goddess."

"A present?" Dru grew excited. She peeked around Spike and took in the girl, dressed in her party clothes, holding her knapsack before her like a shield. She tried to sit up and Spike obligingly moved his hand under her shoulders. Dru, finally up, had regained a little strength from her slumber. She climbed from the bed, the doll still in her arms. "I like presents." Spike watched from the bed as his lover flowed towards the trembling girl. No matter the time, no matter the place, he loved watching Dru hunt. But it was to his surprise when Dru reached out a pale hand and took the bag from the girl. She returned to the bed, her eyes glittering in excitement. She set the doll at the head of the bed, where she'd been resting moments before, then yanked open the top of the knapsack.

Her eyes flew between the bag, Spike, then the girl, a wide smile on her face. "Oh Spike," she crooned. "You brought me a dress-up doll!" She pulled one of Dylan's t-shirts from the bag. "This will be so much fun." Spike rolled his eyes and tried to remove the bag from his grasp, but relented at her soft growl.

"Actually luv," Spike sighed, "I brought you dinner. But if you'd like a dress-up doll, I can get you one of those." It was getting increasingly harder to entice her to feed these days.

"No," she pouted immediately, her eyes on the girl. "I like this one." Spike was about to speak again, but the girl interrupted.

"Um, can I cast my vote for the doll route?" she asked, fear tingeing her voice to barely controlled hysteria. Spike was actually amused that the chit was able to speak up for herself. In a way, he respected it.

"Food doesn't get a vote," he told her decisively.

"Well, having never been eaten, I'd say that puts me in a different category," she argued softly. Spike rolled his eyes. The minions of this town may have accepted him as the reigning Master Vampire, but obviously the sheep-like humans needed a few lessons.

"No Spike," Dru read his intentions. "I want to play." Spike drew back to regard her once more.

"All right pet," he finally agreed. "You can play now, but then you must have something to eat. Need to keep your strength up." She nodded quickly. He let one finger idly slip down her cheek, enjoying the pale silken skin. He then turned to the girl, still in the doorway. "Now, just so you don't get any ideas…" He trailed off, and moving swifter than she realized he could, he'd grabbed her arm and yanked her to the foot of the bed. Before she could react, he'd snapped a manacle around her ankle. "Just so you don't try the absurd notion of running away," he explained matter of factly. He turned back to Dru. "Have fun darling." Dru smiled widely and then he was gone, shutting the door behind him.

"Whoa," Angel was trying not to interrupt, but it was absurd not to at this point. "Dru actually thought you were a doll?"

"I don't know if she really believed that," Dylan bit her lip. "See, from what I gathered, she'd just been dreaming that one of her dolls was. And I guess when she saw my bag of clothes and that's the first thing her mind came up with."

"Be glad it was that and not something worse." She just shuddered delicately and leaned forward to pick up her mug, seeming to need the artificial heat it provided.

Dru continued to pull items out of the bag as Dylan futilely attempted to get comfortable on the worn floor she'd been deposited on. Dru gleefully stopped when her eyes rested on something more than clothes. With awe, she pulled out Dylan's diary that she faithfully wrote in every night. Well, it was her latest one. She'd filled many over the years. Dru ran her hands over the cover of it, almost giddy.

"It sings to me," she chanted, her eyes fluttering.

"The book?"

Dru's eyes snapped over to her, then back to the book. She opened the front cover and read the name inscribed there. She read it again, one finger caressing the black ink imprinted there. "I know who you are now. Dylan Mackenzie."

"Yeah, that's me," Dylan agreed, her mouth suddenly dry.

"You keep your secrets here," Dru nodded, shutting the book cover. "I don't have one to keep my secrets."

"Well Sp- uh, your friend could probably get you one," Dylan shrugged, wondering when the Vampiress would get around to doing the deed.

"I don't need one," Dru giggled. "I have Miss Edith." Her hands reached fondly for the doll. Dylan just watched in morbid fascination as Dru brought her forth and scooted to the end of the bed with her doll in hand.

"She's very nice?" it was more of a question. Dylan had no idea what would set her off. But she was curious about something. "Um, why does she have a gag around her mouth?"

"Oh Miss Edith was a naughty girl this morning," Dru giggled, fondly stroking the doll's hair. "And she'll have no cakes at our tea party today."

"That's too bad," Dylan shivered. The room was a lot colder than she was used to. Amazingly Dru seemed to notice. She patted the bed and gestured for Dylan to join her. Dylan weighed the idea of joining her or remaining on the floor. Since she was chained down, Dru wouldn't have to exert much energy to reach her, so it mattered little where Dylan was. It made more sense to at least be a little warmer while she could. So with a bit of awkwardness, she clambered to her feet and shuffled over to the bed.

"Do you like cake?" Dru asked suddenly. Dylan nodded dumbly. She certainly wasn't going to disagree with the Vampiress. "Then we shall have cake. And tea. All good girls drink their tea. Drink it all up. Tea with lemon."

"Tea with orange is good too," Dylan burst out. She almost wanted to clap a hand over her mouth, but Dru reacted well.

"Orange is sweet," she nodded. "I like sweet tea. So we shall have tea now." She rose from the bed and very deliberately, put her doll into Dylan's arms. She puttered about the room, dragging a small table to the end of the bed. She gathered more dolls from the shelving above her. After that, she left the room. Dylan sat by herself, unbelieving of the events that led up to this moment. She knew she should be screaming her fool head off. But a calmly rational part of herself was telling her that it wasn't any use. She was well and truly trapped. Spike had driven her far enough to be out of Sunnydale. The building they were in was certainly deserted but for the Vampires that had now claimed it. The only though that kept repeating itself seemed to be, 'how long would it take'? How long until Dru tired of her little game? How long would Spike put up with it? How long until she was thrown to one of the minions?

After a good while, Dru finally returned, followed by a minion. There was a dumbfounded look on the monster's face when he realized that his mistress really intended to serve tea to her food, as if she were an afternoon guest over for a good gossip session. He let the tea tray drop a little, but it landed on the table without upsetting anything. Dru made a shooing motion with her hand and the minions left, no doubt to inform the others about their mistress' odd behavior.

Dru took a seat beside Dylan and began to pour several cups of tea. She set one by Dylan, then passed the others around, ostensibly to her other 'guests'. She then began divvying up the cake that had been brought. A small slice for the dolls, one large one for Dylan. She brushed her hands free of crumbs, then smiled widely at Dylan. "Miss Edith has her own seat," she whispered conspiratorially. Dylan handed the doll over gladly.

"Miss Edith is very beautiful," Dylan said, just to break her own frightened silence. Dru smiled at the compliment.

"Yes she is, but I like all my pretty dolls."

"But Miss Edith is special, isn't she?" Dylan probed gently. Dru leaned towards her and put one hand by her mouth, sharing a secret.

"Miss Edith sees things," she giggled. Dylan nodded. She then tilted her head.

"She tells you about those things?"

"Yes, Miss Edith loves to whisper in my ear," Dru agreed. "Such lovely things. Blood and death." Dylan tried hard and just barely managed to repress a shudder. "You know lovely things too." She announced. Dylan's head shot up in shock at her words. How did Dru know that? "You dream. And your dreams tell you."

"They do," Dylan sighed. She'd told nobody about the dreams she had. Nor did she tell them about her feeble prophetic tendencies. Of course, that was always limited to knowing when it was one of her friends on the phone. Or the sense of déjà vu that accompanied certain days. That could be written off to simple coincidence. But the dreams were an entirely different matter. It was strangely gratifying that she could now share this with someone and it turned out to be a crazed, ill Vampiress. "They've been telling me for a long time now."

"Since you were a girl?" Dru confirmed. "I was a girl too. My daddy said I was a bad girl."

"Dreaming isn't bad," Dylan shrugged. Dru's eyes were sad in an instant and Dylan tensed up, but the moment passed. For lack of anything better to do, she picked up the delicate teacup and took a sip. It was a lemon flavored green tea. And she found that it was fairly good.

"My daddy went away," Dru pouted now. "I tried so hard to be good for him. But he left us." Dylan had an idea that she knew what Dru was referring to. She carefully reached over and patted Dru's knee. She seemed to be getting bolder as the minutes passed.

"I'm sorry Dru," it was offered sincerely. From everything she knew, Vampires felt things just as much, maybe more than humans did. "But, you have Spike now. He takes good care of you, doesn't he?"

"Oh yes," Dru lit up again. "My Spike takes good care of me. He gives me everything I want. He brought me you."

"A-and what do you want me for?" Dylan forced herself to ask. Dru grinned.

"So Dru really wanted a friend I guess," Angel mused. It wasn't common, in fact was pretty rare that Vampires befriended anyone. They set up communities for mutual benefit. Or they mated for protection and sex. Love wasn't big in their vocabulary.

"I guess," Dylan agreed. He'd managed to sum up things quickly. Unlike herself, who'd taken much longer to figure it out. "She wanted another woman to talk to. I think she could tell Spike everything. But she missed the dynamics of the family she had with you and Darla. Plus, it can get pretty aggravating, even for her, to always be the one being babied. I think she wanted to take a turn at caring for someone else, the way Spike was doing for her."

"Um, I think you're giving Dru way too much credit," Angel mused.

"Maybe," Dylan shrugged. "But she never did kill me, did she?"


	7. A New Doll

Title: Baby Doll

Author Restive Nature

Disclaimers: I do not own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series. They belong to the almighty Joss and I just play with them for my own amusement before putting them away neatly.

Spoilers: Buffy Season Three "Amends"

Summary: A teenage girl with mysterious ties to Angel helps him with his Christmas Amends.

Chapter Six

A New Doll

"I suppose it would be safe to say that Spike wasn't particularly thrilled?" Angel remarked.

"Not at first," Dylan recalled. She smiled. "I think he was more dumbfounded by our tea party. Apparently blindfolds didn't figure into that sort of thing in his mind." She laughed when Angel choked slightly on his beverage.

"I can't say that I would have thought of that either," Angel shook his head. "Only Dru…"

"Actually, I'm the one who gave her the idea."

"Really?"

After a few hours, Dylan had been able to relax more and more as she realized that Dru really wasn't going to kill her, yet. The Vampiress was much more interested in talking. About the things that Dylan wrote about in her journal. And Dylan wisely went along with her. Talk soon turned to talk about the various dolls Dru had and Dylan commented on each one. She asked Dru what the Vampiress liked to do when she wasn't sleeping or eating. And that launched Dru into rant about the various pets that Spike always procured for her. She kindly, in turn, asked Dylan about her hobbies. And Dylan enthused over a few things before talk turned to a book that Dylan was currently reading. And the innocent remark that led to their next little game.

"And there are these characters," Dylan went on describing the book. "They're Seers, and they put blindfolds over their eyes, so all they see are their visions."

"Oh, that's a wonderful idea," Dru exclaimed, clapping her hands together. She moved quickly before Dylan could go on and knelt at a chest along the far wall. After a little digging, she extracted what she'd been looking for. She rose slowly then turned and waved the long strips of black silk, kept there for reasons Dylan really didn't want to think about. She moved back to the bed and laid them out, making sure she had counted correctly. Dylan gaped at her as she began to methodically tie one slip around each of her doll's heads. When Dylan's turn came, thoughts tumbled through her mind. The most prevalent was the fear that her time was up. Dru had her fill of amusement and now it was time for other things.

Dru was surprisingly gentle with the girl as she tied the strip round her eyes. Giggling softly, she waved a hand in front of Dylan's face, but the girl didn't react at all. She moved across the bed on her knees as she took up her former position. The bed shifted under her weight and Dylan quickly put out her hands to steady herself against the table. Dru settled in before her plate and teacup and then proceeded to blindfold herself. When she had the tie secure, she put forth her hands, seeking something familiar. She found Dylan's hand, and it was shaking.

"Eat up dearie," she instructed, nudging the hand away. She crept her hands along the table and finally found another cup. It seemed to be directly in front of her, so she assumed it was hers. Her hands wrapped about it and she brought it with unerring precision to her mouth. There was a muttered curse.

"Ow, damn it," Dylan growled softly. "I bumped my nose." Dru giggled again.

"See with your mind dearie," she instructed. She took another sip of tea. "It's easy. Relax." Dylan seemed to take her advice.

Dylan finally managed to guide the cup to her mouth and was rewarded this time with a rush of warm liquid. She carefully set the cup down and felt her way to her plate. There was still a few morsels left and she figured to finish them off. She swept up the few crumbs and brought them to her mouth. She chewed and swallowed and then sighed. "Mmm."

"What dearie?" Dru questioned softly.

"My cake's all gone," Dylan sighed. "It was very good. Thank you."

"Oh my girl is so very polite," Dru crowed. "She shall have more cake as a reward." Dru set her cup down again and ungainly rose to her feet. She bumped the table and Dylan's hand shot out to steady it. The girl let out a nervous laugh.

"Dru," she chuckled. "See with your mind. Relax, it's easy." Dru laughed as well as she stumbled about the room, trying to figure out where the rest of the cake was.

"I'm not surprised that Dru had plenty of scarves," Angel commented wryly. Dylan raised an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah, I wonder where she ever got that proclivity." He had the grace to drop his gaze, somewhat embarrassed. "Of course, that's when Spike came in."

"Not pleased?"

"Not pleased at all."

"Pet?" Spike knocked on the door, hearing the laughter. He was smiling himself, not having heard laughter like that from Dru in a long while. The little chit must have been a good meal. He swung the door open, but the sight of his princess stumbling about, a blindfold over her eyes, floored him. Was she starting without him? But then he caught sight of the as yet, uneaten teen. "Pet, what are you bloody doing?" he demanded, coming fully into the room.

"I'm seeing," she chirped, swinging her body around to his voice.

"Pet, you can't see," he pointed out with exaggerated patience. "You have a blindfold on."

"But Dylan said I could see," she pouted.

"Who?"

Dru pointed to where she thought Dylan was sitting, but for Spike, she was pointing at the wall near his head. Knowing her crazy induced moods, he actually did glance at the wall, but there was nothing there. And as she hadn't given any of her dolls that absurd name, he figured she must have been referring to the girl.

"Dylan and I are seeing," Dru spoke in a singsong voice.

"She's got a blindfold on too pet," Spike sighed. There were days he really didn't understand what was going on in her head. He was a little wistful for the simpler days in their lives, when it was all about the kill. Sure, she'd rambled on then too, but there was nothing like her for a bit of mayhem.

"Of course," Dru agreed. "How could we see without them?" Spike began to rub at his temple. Stress headache, just what he didn't need.

"Um Dru?" the girl quiet voice interrupted. Spike glared at her for a moment, until he recalled that the chit couldn't feel the weight of it, as she couldn't see it. "I see something."

"What do you see?" Dru was excited.

"Um," Dylan actually sounded amused. "Well, it's white, porcelain, with a little silver handle, and I kind of need it really badly." And indeed, she was squirming a little on the bed. Both Dru and Spike were quiet as they considered her words. Finally Dru spoke up.

"I don't see it," she whined. She turned in Spike's general direction. "Spike, why can't I see it?"

"She's talking about a toilet, luv," he spoke with exaggerated gentleness, but he was really starting to seethe inwardly. Who was this little chit, and what had she done to Dru that had her acting in this manner? "And you won't be needing it at all."

"But she saw it Spike," Dru whined. "She needs it. Get it for her, please?" Spike rolled his eyes.

"I can't bring one here Dru," Spike tried to explain without losing his temper. "They're bolted to the floor." Dru cocked her head to the side.

"Then you should take her to one," Dru reasoned out enthusiastically.

"How about I just kill her instead," Spike offered, more than willing to.

"No!" Dru shouted emphatically. "No Spike."

"What's the matter luv?" he asked, puzzled. He'd let her have her fun, but she really did need to eat. He moved towards the girl, who'd gone absolutely still. He ran one hand down her blindfolded face, pleased to see her tremble. He knew it, she knew it, now he just needed to persuade Dru.

"You promised," Dru whimpered in response. "You promised you wouldn't hurt my dolls."

"She's not a doll," he snorted. Dru ripped the blindfold from her eyes and gaze him a hard stare. "She's a human."

"Yes she is!" she thundered. "She's my baby doll."

That began a swift and noisy argument. Spike tried to convince her of reality, but Dru stubbornly stuck to her conception that Dylan was a gift and her baby now. Spike was about ready to give in when she brought out the big guns. Her tears. And there was nothing he could do but wrap his arms around her and console her. He finally, quietly agreed that Dylan was her doll, her baby. And yes, Dru could keep her. And nobody, not Spike, nor the minions would hurt her. He figured that eventually Dru would get hungry enough to eat and the problem would be solved. So he decided to leave Dru to her little fantasy a while longer. But before he even got to the door, Dru's voice called him back.

"Don't forget to take Dylan to the toilet," she grinned up at him. He turned to gaze at her, incredulous. It was one thing for her to play with the human, but to rope him into it. It was a little much. But Dru was happy like this. Could he ever deny her anything? Of course, he could always assign a minion to Dylan duty.

"All right luv," he finally consented. He gave her a swift kiss on her forehead, then moved to drag the teen to her feet. As he was bending to unlock the chain from the wall, her voice caught his attention again.

"And don't forget more cake," she cried out gaily. "Mustn't forget to feed the baby." He didn't manage to suppress the growl that erupted from his throat.

Angel was laughing at her description of Spike. "Oh, I knew he was whipped. But really…" He laughed some more.

"He would have done pretty much anything for her," Dylan grinned. "Even put up with me for a few hours."

"Just hours?"

"Well, that's how long he figured it would be before she got tired of her little game and killed me," Dylan shrugged, more philosophical now than she had been.

"Obviously she was in for the long haul," Angel noted.

"Not according to what Spike said that night," Dylan frowned. "He told me…" she giggled, "before ordering a minion to find me a toilet, that he was going to enjoy seeing Dru tear my throat out."

"I'm glad you can laugh about it now," he remarked. She waved a hand in front of her face, trying to calm down.

"It's not that," she gasped. "Just the way he looked when he had to say 'toilet'." She remembered and he imagined, and they both had a good chuckle.


	8. Delivery Man

Title: Baby Doll

Author Restive Nature

Disclaimers: I do not own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series. They belong to the almighty Joss and I just play with them for my own amusement before putting them away neatly.

Spoilers: Buffy Season Three "Amends"

Summary: A teenage girl with mysterious ties to Angel helps him with his Christmas Amends.

Chapter Seven

Delivery Man

The laughter finally died off. But Angel would forever have the image of Spike, in game face, distastefully pronouncing the word toilet in his mind. He did not have many good memories associated with him, the peroxide blonde. Most of his memories were from his time as Angelus, and the demon equated good with the type of mayhem Spike loved to cause. The only other thing Angel could remember laughing about was when he heard about Spike's poetry. But again, that had been perverted by Angelus taunting Spike about it. Although that was almost a good memory in itself, considering his current feelings towards Spike. But it prompted another question.

"Once Drusilla declared that you were her…" he didn't know quite what to call her. Pet? Toy?

"Doll," Dylan supplied wryly.

"Her doll," he conceded. "How did the others react? I mean I know you said Spike threatened you, but what about the minions?"

"Well, they took their lead from Spike," she explained. "At first, they were having fun taunting me about being made a meal. But eventually, they realized that Dru was serious about keeping me around. Once we figured out the logistics of a human living in their nest, they pretty much left me alone."

"No one attacked you? Really?" Angel was surprised; knowing the caliber of idiots Spike usually surrounded himself with.

"Not seriously," Dylan shrugged. "But it did lead to another problem."

"What kind?"

"Well, Spike realized that they couldn't just keep feeding me cake and tea," she recalled with a smile. "So they had to figure something else out."

"Um, Dru," Dylan looked up from the tea she'd just been poured. Dru had that mindless look on her face again. She was slowly moving her head back and forth, similar to a weaving snake, humming tunelessly under her breath. Dylan had been there for a few days now, and she, more than anyone was surprised by how far Dru was going with her belief. If bets were placed, she would have been first in line to say that she'd be dead before morning that first night. Her stomach rumbled slightly, tilting in an imperious manner as she contemplated the cake before her. It had been all right the first night and even the second. An entire day of not eating anything had sharpened her hunger and she devoured the bit of cake given her. But fear had kept her from asking for more. The third night, the cake was starting to get a little more than stale. But now, it was unrecognizable as cake. It looked more like a science project. She wondered how large the original cake had been that Dru seemed to have an endless supply of it.

If she were to put that in her stomach, it would definitely make a return trip the wrong way. And she really didn't want to throw up on the one Vampire that was keeping her safe for the moment. So she had to try again. "Dru?" she was louder this time, and it caught the woman's attention.

"Yes dearie?" she smiled sweetly as she took a seat. Dylan nervously bit her lip, then gestured at the cake.

"I- I think that the cake has gone bad," she ducked her head, but there was no reprisal yet. She glanced quickly at Dru, but she seemed coherent at the moment. "It's, uh, cake isn't supposed to be green. U-unless it's frosted that way, I mean." Dru stared at her for a moment, then looked to the tea party she'd arranged once more. She inspected the cake, her nose so close to it, it was almost touching. Finally, she sat back up.

"Bad cake!" she shouted, her hand smacking down on the offending piece. It splattered with a disgusting noise, coating Dru's hand in slimy mold and crumbs. She giggled, then rose from her perch. "Come, we shall find my baby doll something she likes to eat." She bent over and removed the blasted chain from the wall and marched imperiously towards the main room. She didn't look to see if Dylan was following. It was obvious that she would. She had no other choice.

It didn't take long for them to find Spike. He was busily planning his next campaign against the Vampire Slayer, a name that Dylan didn't quite catch. And, in between his scheming, he was throwing out orders to the minions about finding Dru's cure. At the sound of the chain dragging across the floor, his head came up, to look at his love. There was a gentle expression of concern for her, but when he caught sight of Dylan, it hardened visibly.

"Dru, luv?" he murmured sweetly to her. "What are you doin' up and about? You should be resting, taking nourishment." The last was said with a wicked leer at the teen.

"Baby needs feeding," Dru stated simply, holding up the chain. Spike rolled his eyes. But he'd learned that arguing with Dru on this point was futile. He simply turned to one of the minions and jerked his head.

"Go find the chit some food," he ordered. The minion hesitated a moment. "Well?" Spike demanded, arching his brow menacingly.

"Th-there's cake," he stammered out. But Dru held up her hand.

"Bad cake," she reiterated. Spike's nose scrunched up as the moldy stench hit his nose.

"What the bloody hell is all over your hand pet?" he demanded. He held his hand out expectantly and a handkerchief was quickly placed in it. He reached for Dru's hand and lovingly cleaned it off. "Is it the cake?" She nodded. "It went bad?" She nodded again. Well, they certainly couldn't feed that to the child. He mentally snorted, very tired of the whole deal. Once he was sure he'd removed the filth from her hand, he threw the used cloth back to the minion and turned his head to address them. "Go find something aside from the blasted cake then."

Dru smiled engagingly at her lover, then turned to pull Dylan forward. "What does my baby want to eat?" Spike really did snort this time. Dylan shrugged, nervous under the direct attention.

"I guess some Chinese would be good," she ventured timidly. Dru's eyes lit up.

"Yes Spike," she agreed quickly. "Chinese sounds deliciously yummy." Spike would have ranted about being forced to cater to the human, but the way his princess' eyes lit up dazzled him. He could see the sudden hunger.

"Do it!" he ordered and the minions ran.

"I can't believe Spike actually was stupid enough to do that," Angel smirked. It was one of the ways Vampires had to be careful. Ordering take-out was an old ploy to them, but eventually word would get around and no more deliveries would be made. It also revealed the nest, as more companies were actually keeping records of where the orders went. It brought attention that Vampires did not need. Plus, it took away the natural thrill of the hunt. It was fun to occasionally have a meal drop into one's lap, but part of the Vampire's nature was based in the chase. It got the victim's heart racing increased the flow of blood and the scent of fear was intoxicating.

Angel tried to shake himself out of his mental dissertation on Vampiric nature. It was just another painful reminder of how different he was becoming. The desire was still there, but tamped down by a massive case of guilt. It was better to try not to over think it. Just accept that was the way it was and move on. Don't let it become a temptation.

"I don't think he thought it would become habit," Dylan replied shakily. "And I did point it out to him later." Angel was watching her with interest. He could clearly see how upset she was over this memory.

"What happened?"

She took a deep breath before answering. "Dru didn't think it was polite to make me eat by myself." She bit her lip, unable to continue for a moment. Then she whispered, "so she had a snack with me."

"Food's here," Spike announced grandly as he swung the bedroom door open. He stepped through to allow the person behind him entry. The little man slipped in, holding three bags. The odor emanating from them assaulted Dylan's nose at once and her stomach rumbled in response.

"Baby's hungry," Dru smiled. The little man, not Chinese as it turned out after all, came further into the room, but stopped in shock as he took in the chain attached to his customer's leg. Her gaze met his miserably. She knew what was coming. She dropped her glance, unable to watch.

"W-what's going on here?" the man demanded as Dru took the bags from him. She set them on the table before Dylan, then turned back to face him. No one noticed as Dylan seemed to shrink into herself, drawing her shoulder's up, as if to block out the coming sounds.

"Nothing to concern you mate," Spike drawled, amused. "You just did your job. Delivered our food." He looked to Dru over the man's shoulder. "Why don't you pay the man sweetheart, so we can all get back to our business."

"Yes," Dru's smile was feral. "Come here, so I can give you what you came for." She gestured sweetly to him, her eyes entrancing. With a squeaky gasp, the man drew forth slowly, until he was in reach. Dru, hungry now, grabbed his arm in a crushing grip, her hunger giving her power. She spun him around and without pause, sank her fangs into his jugular. He shuddered within her embrace as his blood poured from the wound. Within minutes, he was drained, his lifeless body collapsing to the floor with a resounding thud. Spike smiled widely and stepped around the body to crouch before Dylan. He grasped her chin and forced her to look at him.

She shrank back again when she took in his demonic visage. "And now you see your fate," he taunted cruelly. He let her chin loose and moved to heft the body out of the room. He'd have one of the numerous minion dispose of it. As he left, Dylan heard him murmuring, "well, one good thing about the chit, she got Dru to eat."

"Ooh, noodles!" Dru exclaimed as she examined the contents of one of the bags.

"That callous bastard," Angel seethed. Dylan was extremely pale now. He had the suspicion that she had never been able to talk about her ordeal until now. And he hated that he had unwittingly brought out these memories. "He was actually grateful to you?"

"You seem to forget," Dylan spoke slowly. "Whatever Dru wanted, Dru got. That's all he was about."

"But that didn't keep him from terrorizing you, did it?" he demanded knowingly. It didn't help when he thought back to his, Angelus' treatment of her."

"I spent a lot of time with them," Dylan argued. "I learned a lot. And I know that they had an atypical relationship, something a lot of people and Vampires didn't understand. Yes, he threatened me, but I eventually realized that as long as I kept on Dru's good side, he wouldn't do a damn physical thing to me." She took a deep breath. "The one thing that I took from that time was strength. I learned how to protect myself from fears. How to get over them. I guess it's like that theory, the best way to learn is to do. If I wanted to learn how to survive constant threat, terror and insanity, where better than that nest of vipers."

"I think you mean those unstable, notoriously unreliable nest of vipers," Angel offered.

"Do you include yourself in that?" she challenged. Angel's eyes widened as the sadness took hold again.

"Yeah, I think I do."

"You know," Dylan sighed, "you don't have a patent on guilt."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that there are a lot of things I wish I had done differently. Thinking about it now, I never would have suggested getting take-out. That man died because I was so hungry I wasn't thinking clearly."

Angel's features softened. "That wasn't your fault. It was Dru and Spike's choice. Dru was the one that killed him. And if she hadn't, Spike or one of the others would have."

"But I was the catalyst that brought him to that point," Dylan argued.

"I understand that," Angel persisted. "But he may have been killed another time, another way. Life is that way. Just because you were there, it doesn't make you all powerful."

"So why don't you tell yourself that?" And for once, he couldn't answer.


	9. Tarot Cards

Title: Baby Doll

Author Restive Nature

Disclaimers: I do not own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series. They belong to the almighty Joss and I just play with them for my own amusement before putting them away neatly.

Spoilers: Buffy Season Three "Amends"

Summary: A teenage girl with mysterious ties to Angel helps him with his Christmas Amends.

Chapter Eight

Tarot Cards

Angel couldn't really answer her question. He was too close to the problem. She was only human. She had her soul all along. She'd never had it removed, then ceremoniously shoved back into the realm claimed by a demon, twice. It wasn't a pleasant thought, let alone thing to live through. And her unwitting opening to feeding Dru was a foregone conclusion in his mind. Dru would be fed one way or another. So he did what he was good at, he avoided the subject.

"So, did Dru ever seem to tire of her game?" he asked quietly. He knew that Spike, once he'd decided to do something was immovable to the end. But Dru, in her insanity and the drive of her demon, often changed her mind. She was a creature of whim and it was nearly impossible for her to focus on one thing for a long duration of time.

"She did," Dylan confirmed. "A number of times actually."

"So how did you keep her from killing you then?"

"Well, I came up with a plan," she shrugged, her tone making it seem that it was the most obvious thing for her to do.

"What kind of a plan?"

"I figured eventually that I'd need some kind of hook, to keep Dru interested in leaving me as a human," Dylan explained.

"So what was the hook?" Angel was interested. He'd never bothered as Angelus to find out precisely why Dru and even Spike wouldn't risk her. He'd always figured that Dru was being crazy and Spike was indulging her. It was interesting that there might be more to it.

"Visions," she replied succinctly.

"You have visions?" he was honestly surprised. "Real visions? Like Dru's?" She was laughing by then.

"No, not real visions," she shook her head. "I faked it. It was kind of a gut reaction. I'd heard Dru talking about finally turning me and I came up with it in the spur of the moment. Although…" she trailed off.

"Although what?"

"So it's about time then?" Spike grinned evilly. He and Dru were sitting at the long dining table, discussing Dru's favorite topic, her baby doll. They'd already schemed over his favorite topic, the Slayer. More precisely, how he was going to get rid of her. He'd already ordered in the Order of Taraka to distract her. Faithful Dalton was working on the translation that he was sure held Dru's cure. All in all, things were going well.

He'd figured out how to handle Dylan. It was easy for the minions to stake out the alleyway by gas stations and grocery stores. Easier still to remember to pick up a victim's bags and bring them back to the factory. Eventually they would have something that appealed to the chit. And she wasn't very picky. And aside from that, he mostly ignored her. Dru allowed her free rein when they were home. And then chained her up when on very rare occasions that Dru felt like going out. And even better now, Dru had been toying with the idea of turning the girl. Another faithful minion with a bonus. Dru would actually like this one. The girl could be a powerful ally, if properly trained. The idea amused Spike and he was in a magnanimous mood when she finally appeared that evening.

Dylan had taken to patterning her life after the Vampires. She slept during the day when they did and stayed up most evenings to keep Dru company. She'd been informed that evening that Dru was staying home and the Vampiress had unchained her. So after attending to her immediate needs of bathroom and then food, she gravitated to where her only friend seemed to be. But she'd stopped short when she heard Dru musing about turning her. When the pair quieted, she schooled her features into innocence and moved around the corner. She took in the sight before her. Dru had been playing with her tarot cards again. She'd read Dylan a few times, but could never seem to see anything clearly about the girl's future.

An idea popped into Dylan's mind. She approached carefully, gauging the pair's mood. She'd learned to read Spike a little better through proximity. Dru was always happy to see her. She took her mothering role as seriously as she was able. And on rare occasions, Spike actually took the time to explain the way of his world to her. This cemented his role as her father in Dru's mind. Without a word, she took a seat beside Dru and stared at the tarot cards.

"Does my baby want to play?" Dru asked sweetly. Dylan nodded slowly. Dru slid the cards toward her and Dylan took them gently. She didn't want to offend Dru by wrecking on of her possessions. The game here was survival, not 'how quick can you ensure a painful death'.

"You read?" Spike snorted. He knew that many humans were fascinated by mysticism, but he'd never found someone competently able to predict the future. Not like his Black Goddess could. He was amused at her presumption to play at being like his lover.

"I used to," Dylan admitted. That much was true. When she was fourteen, she'd gone through a whole phase where she'd embraced mysticism. She'd checked her daily horoscope tenaciously, read the tarot and figured out star charts. Until she'd realized that it was all generalization. So the key here, were specifics. She hoped though that she remembered enough to make it believable. So with that in mind, she began to shuffle through the deck. She held it out for Spike to cut and with a smirk, he did so. She then set the two halves of the deck before Dru. Dru smilingly touched each pile, then handed them back to Dylan.

With care, she began to lie out the cards. She was mostly familiar with the Celtic cross pattern. So that was what she used. She could see from the corner of her eye that Spike was barely controlling his laughter. He was the one she needed to convince. Dru was right there with her, waiting for the cards to speak to her as they always did.

"Well pet?" Spike drawled. "What do we see then?"

Dylan read the cards over. It was dark. She did remember what the booklet that had come with her pack of cards said. But again, it was in general terms. She closed her eyes. What could she use, what was likely to happen? So she motioned to the cards.

"Do you see the Fallen Tower?" They nodded. "Things will be changing. There is setback… abandonment. But at the same time…"

"What pet?" Dru whispered. She could hear the whispering, but it was all directed at Dylan. She knew, she was sure that Dylan could hear as well as she herself could.

"Well, see the Ace of Wands? There is a new creation at the same time. It won't happen to the same person. But it's confusing me." Here was where she needed the details. "I see…" she searched her mind hastily. What was devastating? "I see flame. I see the profaning of all things holy. There is darkness where there should be light."

"Well of course," Spike snorted. "We are Vampires luv," he pointed out snottily, but Dru hushed him.

"What else Baby Doll?" she encouraged.

"See here, the two of Swords, reversed," Dylan went on. "and here the ten of Wands, also reversed. There is duality of nature. Someone, a friend, will show his duplicity, treachery and disloyalty."

"Disloyalty to us?" Dru asked seriously. Dylan shook her head.

"Treachery everywhere," she offered. Vampires were rarely loyal by choice. There were intricate matters of bloodline, but if a Vampire were to see an opportunity for power, they were quick to grab it. "He will be disloyal to his friends and his foes, then to his foes and his friends." There, that sounded really predicty. Again, Spike snorted.

"This is good," Dru enthused, thoroughly entranced. The girl had more power than she'd first believed.

"Anything else?" Spike snarled sarcastically. Dylan nodded slowly. She gestured to the last cards.

"The devil," she spoke softly. Her eyes became slightly unfocused She was shocked when a brief vision flashed before her eyes. She was encased in inky blackness. In her mind, her hands pushed forward, but encountered nothing but cold stone. She gasped in pain, glancing down, taking in the sword jammed into her chest. But she was not herself, she was stone. Her eyes cleared and she saw Dru looking on in concern.

"The devil," she began again, "combined with the Fool, reversed. There is bondage. A sword set in stone. But it will prove to be his downfall. It shows unexpected failure. And he will be unable to decide his next course of action." She stared at the cards, wondering where the vision had come from. That had never happened to her before. She'd never seen the future before and was wary now. Perhaps she was just getting a little too into the game.

"So when is all this supposed to happen?" Spike grinned. He had to give the girl her due. She put on a good show. But of course, by locking her down on dates, he'd prove to Dru what a little fake she was. And then Dru would be only too happy to turn her.

Dylan perused the cards again. She gestured to the first. "The change will be within the week. The setback will be then." She moved her hand to the next prediction, considering. "The treachery will be after the new year. Two months from now. It is immutable and will happen then. The downfall will be a long time coming. But the Ace indicates a season. I would say Spring."

"You're certain?" Spike spoke seriously for the moment.

"I am," she managed to keep her façade calm. It spaced things out enough that she hoped to hang on. If she could just make it through this next week, maybe she would survive. She knew Dru was intrigued enough to wait and see if she truly had prophetic abilities. Spike seemed inclined to play a cat and mouse game with her. So, in this next week, she needed to find a way to escape. Or else, when the week was over, she'd be dead.

"You do realize that if you're correct, you'd be quite the asset to have around here?" Spike grinned. The game was getting more interesting. Dylan simply nodded. "Of course, we'd have to turn you."

Dylan gulped. Here was the crunch of it. "But there's no guarantee that I'd be able to do this if I were a Vampire."

"True," Spike agreed. "But my lovely Princess here had visions before she was turned. And look at how wonderfully she turned out."

"No Spike," Dru interrupted her hand at her brow. "Baby Doll is right. My power is not her power. Her strength lies in her dreams. She would not dream. She would cease to care." They were all quiet after her strange announcement.

"All right then pet," Spike shrugged. "I'll leave it up to you." And with that, took his leave of them.

"That's amazing," Angel breathed. "You really saw that?"

"It's the way the cards fell," Dylan explained. "Those cards of Dru's were eerily correct. I mean, I embellished the first part. But the little vision thing, I never expected that."

"The first prediction, that was Spike, wasn't it?" he wondered. She nodded.

"A few nights after that, he did the ritual to bring Dru back, and was caught in that fire," Dylan recalled. "Their roles were reversed. She was the strong one and he was the weak. And because she was the strong one, she began to slowly abandon his care to others, because she couldn't handle it."

"And the other predictions," Angel sighed. "They were about me, weren't they?" She nodded again. "When did you do that reading?"

"November nineteenth, I think," she shrugged. "Why?"

"Because Angelus returned on January nineteenth," he informed her softly. Her eyes widened. Angel shook his head quickly as if to dislodge the reminder of bad times. "And of course, the last vision was Acathla." He didn't need the confirmation she gave. They sat quietly, drinking their tea. "So, how is it that when Spike and Dru captured me, that I never saw you?"

"Oh, Spike locked me up in another room," Dylan smiled. "He was afraid that I'd set you free."

"Would you have?" he smiled, already knowing the answer. She grinned back at him.

"Not until you'd first promised to get me the hell out of there as well!" she laughed. Her laughter broke the somber mood they'd unwittingly cast over themselves. After all, it was all in the past.


	10. Damaged

Title: Baby Doll

Author Restive Nature

Disclaimers: I do not own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series. They belong to the almighty Joss and I just play with them for my own amusement before putting them away neatly.

Spoilers: Buffy Season Three "Amends"

Summary: A teenage girl with mysterious ties to Angel helps him with his Christmas Amends.

Chapter Nine

Damaged

"So Spike was beat up pretty badly after the fire at the church?" Angel mused. "I don't really remember much. It was kind of hazy."

"Well, I would expect so," Dylan shrugged. "After all, Dru had been torturing you, then drained you of your life force nearly to death." Angel gave a small shudder in remembrance.

"Yeah, it took me a little while to recover from that," he noted. "How bad were Spike's injuries?" It didn't really matter to him. But it was interesting to calculate the damage done, in relation to things that happened to him. Not that he ever planned to have an organ dropped on him. But it would be something to keep in mind. He couldn't help Buffy when he was laid up.

"Well, from what I could tell," Dylan frowned, "and remember, I'm not a doctor, if he had been human, he would have been dead almost instantly." Angel nodded. "When the organ fell on him, it crushed most of the bones in his lower back, ribs, pelvis and one of his legs. He also got knocked in the head, so I imagine he had a severe concussion. And he was under there for a while before Dru managed to pull him out. The church was on fire, but it hadn't reached them. But it did heat up the metal pipes on the organ and damaged the right side of his face pretty badly. The only thing that saved the rest of his right side was that leather duster he wore. If he hadn't been wearing it, the material he was wearing would have possibly melted right onto his skin."

"That's petty bad," Angel tried to keep from grinning over the other Vampire's pain. In all honesty, if it had been anyone else, he'd most likely wince in sympathy. But it was Spike. Never his favorite person, with or without his soul.

"And of course Dru had no idea what to do for him aside from feed him blood," Dylan scoffed.

"Well, that's really all she would need to do," Angel shrugged. "A Vampire's body will heal itself."

"I know," Dylan grimaced. "I told Dru so, but she insisted I fix him anyway."

"Excuse me?" Angel was mystified. How would Dylan have been able to help?

"Apparently, Dru realized that my first prediction came true, so she seemed to believe that I could do anything."

"Oh," he sighed. "Why doesn't that sound good?"

"Because it wasn't."

Dylan had been chained up most of the night. Dru and Spike had taken the minions to the abandoned church for the ritual to restore Dru. The Vampiress had been happy, and the few occasions that she spent time with Dylan in the girl's 'new' bedroom, she'd been singing. So Dylan had a pretty good idea what was going on. They'd discovered how to perform the ritual, they had what they needed, but they wouldn't bring Dylan. Dru, with clarity, knew that Dylan would try to run away. And since the minions would need to keep their concentration on the Slayer and Spike would be performing the ritual and she'd be tied up, there was no one to watch her baby, so Dylan had to stay behind.

She'd wandered about her Spartan room, alternately lying on the bed and pacing the floor. The chain was long enough that she could make it to all four corners of the room with no problem. There was a bag of groceries in a heap by the door. At first Dylan had been tempted to go through it. She was hungry after all, but she was getting tired of the constant cold, canned food. The thought of her mother's Sunday afternoon pot roast nearly brought her to tears. When she saw the six pack of cola at the top of the bag, she'd changed her mind. From what she could tell, the group was going to be gone for a long while, and she had no access to the bathroom. So she tried to keep herself occupied.

She worked at her chain for over an hour, trying to simply pull it free. But the thick lengths required more strength than she had. She then searched the room for a key or lever of some sort. But the room was bare. After that, she gave up for the day. She still had a few days before her first prediction ran out and her time was up for good. So now she waited for the next moment of movement. There was no point in providing it herself. She was utterly alone. She wanted to cry about it, she really did. But there was that strange little part of her mind that kept repeating how useless tears were. What would happen would happen.

There were no windows in her room. She had no way of telling time, except by her inner clock. And it was never that reliable. She knew vaguely when morning slipped into afternoon and afternoon to evening. So she didn't bother to mark time. She finally became hungry enough to eat and drink, hoping a way to deal with other things would occur to her. If all else failed, she could hold on until dawn. The vampires were sure to return before then.

But they didn't. Dylan began to worry. Had they forgotten about her? Was she destined to eventually starve to death here in this abandoned factory? She'd been prepared to be turned. But starvation hadn't occurred to her. So in between naps, she planned. She rationed out her food, trying to think how long it would last. And she tried to think of escape plans.

Finally she realized that the next night was beginning to creep towards day when she finally heard a commotion in the outer rooms. A wave of relief came over her. At least she hadn't been forgotten. She didn't bother to rise from the bed. If they wanted her for something, they knew where to find her. So she was surprised to suddenly hear Dru screaming for her. Demanding that she come help her. Dylan wondered why one of the minions didn't come and get her. A few minutes went by and Dru was still screaming. So Dylan achingly rose from the bed and shuffled to the door. She opened it to see nothing.

Then Dru appeared from the shadows. "Baby, come help me," she instructed. She looked different now. The glassy look of her eye was gone. Her features even and straight, were…intent looking.

"I'm still chained up Dru," she whispered back. She had no idea what had gotten Dru into such panic mode. Dru stared at her for a moment before finally comprehending. She hurried forward, grabbing a key from a nearby table and rushed into the room, expertly unlocking her pseudo daughter. Then she proceeded to drag the girl to the main room where the dining table stood. Dylan stumbled and stopped short when she caught sight of Spike, draped across the table as if he'd been dumped there.

"Help him," Dru implored.

"My God Dru, what happened?" Dylan was stunned. She moved forward and Dru followed after.

"That nasty Slayer tried to kill him," Dru snarled. "But Mummy saved him. I'll keep him safe." She continued to ramble, but Dylan tuned her out. Her eyes darted around, noting that they seemed to be the only ones about. Where were the minions? Had the Slayer killed them all? Was this her chance? Dru wasn't paying attention to her now. She was babbling at Spike, something about how it was her turn to take care of him. Should she run, make a break for it? But before she could put thought into action, Dru glanced up and caught he eye. "Help him, please? I don't know what I'd do without him. Please?"

There was no way that Dylan could deny her in that moment. Dru had kept her safe from Spike's original scheme. She'd tried to take care of her to the best of her abilities. Didn't Dylan owe her something at least for that? The little voice in the back of her mind was screaming at her. But she shut the voice out for now. There was one chance now. There would be another, she hoped. And maybe, if she were lucky, Dru would forget to chain her up again. And when the Vampiress retired as she normally did, Dylan could go then.

"All right Dru," she conceded for the moment. "We need to straighten him out. Tell me exactly what happened to him."

"The Slayer knocked him down," Dru growled at the memory. She'd been just coming around a bit when the organ had fallen on top of them. But with the blood of her Sire running through her veins once more, she was able to throw off the effects of the accident. But Spike wasn't so lucky.

"Did she hit him or what?"

"She hit his head," Dru recounted slowly. "He fell. We fell. And something collapsed on top of us." Dylan could see that now that she'd promised to help, Dru had calmed considerably. She was focused now and making a lot more sense than usual. They'd finally managed to straighten the Vampire out and Dylan gasped at the amount of blood that coated his face and clothing. There were nasty bumps and bruises along his face and collarbone. But underneath, it looked twisted somehow.

"Dru, his face," Dylan swallowed hard. "What happened to his face?"

"It was hot," she said simply.

"There was a fire?" Dylan queried. Dru nodded. "Okay, we need to get him cleaned up. Get this blood off him. Does he have any broken bones?" Dru shrugged, then nodded. "Well, I guess it's a good thing he's already dead." She thought for a moment about what she'd need. "Where are the others?"

"Gone," Dru informed her dryly.

"Slayer?"

"Yes."

"Okay," Dylan forced herself to think calmly. "We'll need to take his clothes off. Better to just cut them off, so we can check his bones. I'll need water and something to wash his face off with."

"No," Dru interrupted. "He needs blood first." She was so calm about the matter that Dylan felt her blood run cold.

"Dru didn't use you did she?" Angel broke in to her rumination quickly.

"Oh no," Dylan smiled. "I was afraid she was going to. But she had other ideas."

"Of course."

"Blood?" Dylan said softly. This was it.

"Yes," Dru nodded. "It will fix him."

"Oh, ah I…" Dylan's mouth was dryer than sandpaper. She watched in helpless fascination as Dru neared the table. She prodded her lover's mouth open. Dylan cringed as Dru's hand came up. But before she could react, Dru arced her hand down swiftly, slicing open her other arm with her razor sharp nails, lying open the flesh. She held the bleeding appendage over his mouth and watched idly as the blood flowed in. Dylan was about to make a shaky comment when Spike's face changed to its true form and his throat swallowed convulsively, instinctively.

"It's working," Dylan smiled. She really had thought that Dru would sacrifice her without second thought.

"Of course," Dru giggled. "My Spike loves his blood. Such a good little boy." She continued to feed him, letting him take what he could. It was obvious that even in his unconscious state, his demon had a good instinct for survival. "My blood will make him strong. Took it all from my sire. He's strong; he can afford to share. And now I'm strong. And so will my Spike be strong." Finally, Spike was too exhausted. His mouth went slack, his face slid back to human visage and Drusilla pulled her arm away. She licked her wound clean and watched as it began to close up.

"Should we clean him up now?" Dylan asked. Dru nodded.

"I'll get the water and something to get his clothes off." She moved off to do just that. Dylan stared at Spike. There was something about him, so vulnerable in this moment. It was such a difference to what she was used to. Maybe there was something in his face of that which he'd once been. Dylan silently chided herself for thinking such nonsense.

Dru returned and together they began the long process of unclothing the prone body. Dru insisted on easing her lover's beloved coat from his body. She confided that he'd never forgive her if she cut it up. Dylan almost giggled at that thought. In her mind, if Dru wanted to make a string of dolls from the fabric, Spike would hand her the scissors to do so. It was strange to still see daily the affection between the two, almost as if they were a real couple. Of course, to the Vampire community, they were. Where one went, there went the other. They were a matched set.

Once they'd removed his clothes, Dylan blushed fiercely and turned way. Dru was puzzled by her reaction. "Have you never seen a naked man, dearie?" she smiled fondly.

"Well, ah, of course," Dylan blushed even deeper. "In health class."

"Pictures?" Dru hmmed. "It's all right. You can look at my Spike."

"Dru!"

"What?"

"I can't look at him," she protested feebly. The Vampiress really seemed to see nothing wrong with that.

"Why not?"

"He'd kill me!"

"Probably," she agreed mildly. "But we don't have to tell him."

"Dru offered you a look at Spike," Angel guffawed. His jaw was starting to hurt. He hadn't laughed so much for longer than he cared to think. "That's strange. She was always very possessive."

"Well, it was just a look," Dylan frowned. She was still puzzled by Dru's magnanimity.

"Did you? Look I mean?" he smirked.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she teased. She no longer had illusions about the depth of Vampiric sexuality. Angel sobered immediately.

"No, I don't think I do," he rolled his eyes.

"Well, I didn't," Dylan continued. "I made Dru cover I with a towel. Of course, that made things easier in the long run."

"Why?"

"Because when he woke up and realized he was naked and I was the only one there, he about went ballistic."


	11. Recovery

Title: Baby Doll

Author Restive Nature

Disclaimers: I do not own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series. They belong to the almighty Joss and I just play with them for my own amusement before putting them away neatly.

Spoilers: Buffy Season Three "Amends"

Summary: A teenage girl with mysterious ties to Angel helps him with his Christmas Amends.

Chapter Ten

Recovery

"You know, from what I remember, Spike couldn't really care less, well, you know," Angel shrugged. From what he had seen, Dru had sheltered Dylan fairly well from the more… intimate aspects of their lives. But Spike had always enjoyed teasing pretty young girls. He couldn't see how that had changed, unless he refrained out of respect for Drusilla.

"Well, I think at another time or place, maybe in different situations he would have had a laugh," Dylan grinned. "But, injured, naked vampire, with no Dru in sight, hungry as hell and very much in pain. You see where the going ballistic comes from."

"Of course."

The first sound that came from him was a groan. That was to be expected. He still seemed to be in some pain. But it had only been a day since Dru had brought him home to the factory. She'd had the presence of mind to chain Dylan to the table leg. So the girl was forced to sit with the Vampire. It puzzled her that Dru treated her like a daughter one minute, then a pet that needed to be tied up for its own good. Dylan had scooted a chair back as far as her chain would allow and tried to doze. But she had the idea that when Spike did finally wake, she'd be the first thing in his hungry line of vision. So she didn't sleep well, as exhausted as she was. And it didn't help that she hadn't eaten anything the previous evening.

Spike's mumbling brought her attention back to him. His eyes snapped open. Dylan froze. Not that she'd been moving around much. "Spike?" she whispered, hoping to reach him before he reacted. He groaned again, shifting slightly, as if to figure out the extent of his injuries.

"Wha' the bloody 'ell," he growled, one hand moving to his forehead. He tried to look over himself, then his gaze moved around the room, acquainting himself with his surroundings. But his eyes stopped on her. Dylan shrank a little, but returned his gaze. "Where the hell are my clothes?" he shouted. "Where's Dru?" His eyes rolled back into his head as fresh pain swept over him. "The fire," he finally whispered. "There was a fire." He whipped his head to the side again, to demand of her, "where's Dru? Is she okay? Tell me!"

Dylan finally managed to rise from the chair, her chain rattling loudly as she shuffled forward. "Dru is all right," she spoke softly, trying to calm him. "She brought you back and we were waiting for you to wake up. She's out right now with the new ones, getting you some blood."

"Good, because I'm hungry," he growled. He smirked up at her. "Why don't you come a little closer?"

"Hey," Dylan protested with a smile. "I didn't patch you up just so you could kill me."

"You did this?" Spike demanded while gesturing at his body covered only with a thin sheet. Dylan blushed and he misunderstood. "Rule of survival around here luv. You keep your hands off Drusilla's stuff."

"And that includes you, I got that," she rolled her eyes. "No, Dru undressed you. And fed you. She just wanted me to sit with you in case you woke up."

"All right then," Spike nodded. His memories after trying to escape Buffy and her gang were hazy. He looked up at the teen, serious again. "How bad is it?"

"I was hoping you could tell me," Dylan winced. "I mean, I know you have broken bones. And I thought you might have been hit in the head. And Dru said that the fire was pretty close to you, so there's some burns."

"So that's why my face feel's like a bleedin' fireplace," he mumbled. He quieted for a moment, stretching out his feelings. He calculated the extent of damage to his body. But it still hadn't dawned on him, just how badly things were. He usually bounced back fairly quickly when he was injured. Still, it had only been a day since the fire. That was probably why his body was feeling heavy and slightly numb. "Broken bones, check," he mumbled. "Head's throbbing, not a good sign. And my face is raw." He looked up at her, almost pleadingly. "How do I look?"

"Honestly?" she tried to keep a smirk from her face. He winced, then nodded. "Homicidal." There was a trace of smile on his face. And he did look maniacal with the burn scar running down his cheek. She knew that it extended down most of the right side of his torso. And she thought there were even some burning on his legs. "I know it probably won't do much, but I asked Dru to get you some aloe vera lotion."

"What's that for?" he screwed up his face in distaste.

"It'll help the burns heal a little more quickly," she shrugged. He looked ready to protest. "I know all you need is blood to heal, but Dru was really upset. So I gave her a list of things to get. It seemed to help her, to have something to do." She did smirk this time. "Aside from creating new fledglings, that is."

"The Slayer dusted the other gits then?" he rolled his eyes. He vaguely recalled some more detail of the ritual the blonde Slayer had interrupted. "Is Dru really all right? She's strong isn't she?"

"Strong enough to haul you home," Dylan shrugged. "And to snap the neck of the first minion she made."

"What'd she do that for?" he mumbled. His body, though recuperating, was clambering for healing sleep.

"He tried to bite me. I think she made a lesson out of him for the others."

"Dru's good at that," he whispered as slumber began to overtake him again. "She knows how to keep her boys in line." Dylan smiled. It was obvious that he was including himself in that group.

"Sleep," Dylan whispered back, but he was already gone.

"So he didn't realize that he was unable to walk?" Angel mused. He'd never done more than taunt Spike about his limitations. Even now he didn't bother to put himself in the other Vmapire's shoes. It was over and done with. What did interest him was the soft smile on Dylan's face as she talked about Spike. Had she developed something similar to Stockholm syndrome? Had she developed affection for the deadly duo? He knew she certainly hadn't for Angelus. He tried to think back to how she interacted with the others, but he really hadn't seen that much of her.

"That came later," Dylan confirmed. "At first, he just wanted to make sure Dru was well."

"How long before he figured it out?"

"It didn't take him long after he woke up the second time."

Dylan wasn't as worried the second time Spike woke up. She prudently sat out of arm's reach from him, but she was much calmer. Dru had returned and removed the chain. As soon as she had done that, she'd turned to the three new minions she'd created earlier and warned them away from her Baby Doll. They had stared at her in disbelief until she dismissed them. And as they walked away, Dylan heard the story circulating about Dru's wrath. Dalton, the bookish Vampire had returned shortly after to beg his Mistress's forgiveness. Apparently he'd run as soon as the Slayer had shown up. Dru, who'd been distracted by Spike's moaning had sent him away. And the relieved Vampire ran off to take comfort in his books.

But Spike had drifted back to rest. And Dru had eventually gotten tired of sitting and waiting. So she asked Dylan to sit with him again. And the girl did. So when Spike woke, she was there, waiting. His head rolled to the side and his eyes focused on her.

"Where's Dru?" were the first words from his lips.

"She's resting," Dylan shrugged. She tried, but couldn't keep a yawn from erupting. "It's day. Do you want me to get her?" He shook his head.

"Let her rest," he decided. He hadn't completely made the realization that Dru was fully restored and back to her old self yet. "I'm hungry. Anyone to eat around here?" Dylan grinned, then yawned again.

"Just me," she chuckled. "But first rule of survival and all." Spike stared at her uncomprehendingly for a moment, before he remembered his earlier statement.

"Damn my luck," he groaned. "Someone bloody remembers what I said and uses it against me." He glared at her. "Well, what are you waiting for? Find me something to eat." Dylan grimaced, but rose from the chair. There was no rankling chain this time and Spike registered that immediately. "Where's your chain?" he demanded.

"Dru took it off since she was here," she explained.

"Then why the hell aren't you running?" he barked out.

"'Cause I promised her I'd stay and help you," she offered quietly. He looked so stunned his eyes nearly crossed.

"Of all the…" he was speechless. He studied her for a moment. "You're crazy, you know that, right?" Se grinned broadly and nodded. He stared at her a moment longer. "Why'd you promise?"

"I don't know," she replied helplessly. "It's hard to explain. Dru, she's been keeping me safe. And…and she understands me. She knows things about me that no one else does. And it doesn't bother her. For some reason, most of the time, I feel safe with her. So, I guess I figured I owed her."

"Definitely crazy," Spike grinned. That was jus like his dark Princess, to lure in an unsuspecting teen and make her like her to the point that she'd do stupid things in the name of friendship. He was oddly proud. Dru hadn't lost her special touch.

"Besides," Dylan giggled, "you'd just chase me down and bring me back to her."

"Sure about that, are ya?" he grinned ferally. "Maybe I'd chase you down and feed, the tell Dru you got away." Her eyes widened fractionally. "In fact, why don't we test that theory."

Dylan watched him carefully, for any sign of moment. She believed him. But when he made no effort to rise, she relaxed. Perhaps he was teasing her? Testing her? But when she looked closer, she saw that he was indeed making an effort. His stomach muscles were clutching rhythmically, but he was getting nowhere. She crept forward, concern painting her face. "Spike?"

"My legs," he groaned. "Bloody hell." He grunted and his head fell back from the strain. He tried once more, but there was nothing. He couldn't move. And then Dylan was cowering in the corner, covering her ears against the onslaught of his voice.

"I'll tell ya," she grinned, " I learned a lot of curses that night."

"Blistered your ears, huh?" he well remembered Spike's rages.

"They were raw for a week after," Dylan chuckled. "I think he even lapsed into some demon language for a while."

"Serves him right for what he did," Angel sniffed derisively. Dylan frowned.

"Not that I'm defending him or anything," she began carefully, "but what he did, he did mostly out of love. That it included hurting you was icing on the cake as far as he was concerned."

"You know, as much as I hate to admit it," Angel smiled back, "but Spike was right about one thing."

"What's that?"

"You're crazy."


	12. Memory

Title: Baby Doll

Author Restive Nature

Disclaimers: I do not own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series. They belong to the almighty Joss and I just play with them for my own amusement before putting them away neatly.

Spoilers: Buffy Season Three "Amends"

Summary: A teenage girl with mysterious ties to Angel helps him with his Christmas Amends.

Chapter Eleven

Memory

"Yeah, just a little crazy," she agreed quickly. Angel was about to laugh it off, but something in her expression quieted him. She really believed that she was crazy.

"Did it, I mean, did you start feeling that way from hanging around with Dru?" He knew it was a strange question. Crazy was not contagious like a cold. But it was in that when a person surrounded himself or herself in desperate circumstance, it was bound to rub off.

"A little of that," she admitted. "But it was more. I was depressed, certainly. But like I told Spike, Dru understood me. There were things going on in my life that I was trying to deal with before any of this happened." He got the idea that she was referring to something beyond normal teenage angst. He quickly squashed the urge to ask about it. If she wanted to share with him, she would.

"But just because Dru understood and was crazy, that doesn't mean you are," he offered reasonably.

"We're all a little crazy Angel," she pointed out dryly. "The things that shape our lives tend to have a profound effect on us, even if it bothers no one else."

"True," he conceded. "Very true." He paused to let that sink in. "So how did you deal with it?"

"I cried." As simple as that.

Dru found her one evening, as time inexorably marched closer to Christmas. She was happy, as Spike was recovering. At least the Vampiress believed he was. He was certainly throwing fewer things about in his rages. It had been hard for her to be around Spike. Certainly she loved him. But she didn't know what to do for him, aside from bringing him food. But Dylan, she had bonded with him. Dru saw it and enjoyed the cementing of their unorthodox relationship. When Spike had first realized that he was unable to walk, he and Dylan had reached some kind of truce. And now, the girl was spending a lot of time with him. Dru peeked in occasionally and saw them together. Some times Dylan was encouraging him to exercise his legs. Other times they'd be chatting about various things. Sometimes Dylan was just quietly listening to him recount his glory days. And always, the girl would claim that they were not all behind him.

She had something foreign to Dru. The girl had hope. Dru didn't understand it, but she knew it when she saw it. There was no reason for Dru to hope. For that was wishing for and waiting for better things. She already had everything she wanted. But for one detail. And from Dylan's earlier predictions, perhaps she would get that back. So hope was an alien concept. But Dylan still had it. There were other things the girl wanted from her life. But looking at her now, Dru wondered if maybe she'd lost a little of that hope. For even as she closed into the dark corner where the girl was huddled, she could hear the sobs and smell the sharp salty tang of tears.

Dru hunkered down beside Dylan, sitting on her heels and wrapping her arms around her knees. "What's got my Baby Doll so upset?" she murmured gently. Dylan's head shot up.

"Oh Dru," she sniffled, quickly wiping the stray tears away. "It's nothing."

"It's something if it made my girl cry," Dru argued quietly. It distressed her a little to see Dylan like this. She had no idea what was wrong. Everything was right in her world. It should have been for Dylan as well.

"Ah, I was just… just thinking about my family," the teen admitted with a slight cringe. But Dru didn't react. "It's nothing, really."

"You can tell me," Dru encourage, reaching out to push a strand of hair back. "I'm your family now too." That got a smile.

"Yeah, I guess you kind of are," and in a weird way, Dylan meant it. Dru had become like a strange older sister to her. She and Spike had become friends. The rest of the minions pretty much stayed away from her. Except Dalton of course. Once he'd found out that she loved to read, he'd spent a few evenings with her, expounding over his finds. She hadn't the heart to tell him that she preferred fantasy novels and romance junk to Latin treatise.

"So?" Dru prompted.

"It's just," Dylan sighed. She may as well get it all out now. "It's getting close to Christmas time. I know that doesn't mean anything to Vampires, but for me, it's a big deal. My whole family gets together. And we visit and play games. And we have a big turkey dinner together. And we open gifts." She paused for a breath. "And I'm going to miss it this year. My parents are probably out of their minds since I've been gone so long. Not knowing whether I'm dead or not." She began to cry again. Dru sank to her bottom and wrapped her arms around the girl.

"Is it a tradition?" she asked slowly. She could still remember the traditions her mortal family had clung to. But that was a different time and way of life. Dylan nodded in her embrace. "Well then," Dru smiled brightly," we'll just have to make our own traditions!" Dylan's head shot up, instantly suspicious.

"What?"

Dru unwrapped one arm to bring a perfectly manicured fingertip to her lips. "Shh, it's a secret." She rose up, then held her hand out to Dylan. The teenager took the proffered hand and rose up as well. At least there was one thing that she couldn't sulk about anymore. Dru no longer chained her at night. It was one thing to be happy about. Dru led her to Spike's room. She pushed the door open and pushed her in. "You and Spike have a little visit. Mummy has work to do."

Dylan watched her for a moment as the Vampiress danced gaily away. Then, with a mental shrug, she turned and braced herself for dealing with the second impaired Vampire in her life.

"I had no idea that Dru could be like that," Angel breathed. Astounded. "Dru never thought about other people."

"I know," Dylan mused. "Freaked me out too."

"So what new tradition did she come up with?"

"Baby Doll day."

"You're kidding?" he wanted to laugh. That sounded just like Dru. Crazy like a fox. Calculating and conniving when she wanted to be. Crazier than a loon all the rest.

"Sadly, I am not kidding."

Dylan stayed with Spike for the rest of the night. He was maudlin as well and it helped her a little to try and cheer him up. She had gotten a few smiles out of him by the time Dru returned for her. They performed the same ritual that they did each night. Dru escorted her to her room, tucked her into bed, then dragged the length of chain to the wall and bolted her in. A quick 'good night' and the Vampiress retired to her own bed.

Dylan tried not to, but her thoughts drifted back to what had made her so sad earlier. Right about now, her father would normally be bringing out the Christmas lights. They would sit together, she and her father, trying to untangle them until they finally gave up and went shopping for new ones. Her mother would be baking up a storm of Christmas cookies. And fudge. People loved her mother's fudge, and she regularly gave it away as gifts. And she always kept some on hand for when friends and relatives came to visit. When Dylan was younger, she always gave her mother ideas to try for her fudge. That began the peanut butter banana fudge tradition.

What Dylan hadn't told Dru was that it was also her birthday. This morning, as of 9:28 a.m., she was seventeen years old. And ever since she had gotten her mother to try that strange flavor of fudge, her mother lovingly prepared it. It was the one time each year that she was allowed to eat sweets for breakfast. When she was younger, Dylan would gobble it down, enjoying the rare treat. But as she grew older, she learned to savor it, often taking most of it with her to school to sneak a little each class. And then, at the end of the night, to pop the last morsel in her mouth and let it melt as she drifted off to sleep. But there would be no fudge for her today. She fell asleep finally, a track of tears down her cheeks.

When she awoke that evening, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She noticed immediately that Dru had already been to her room and had unlocked her. Dylan methodically rotated the ankle that had been chained for so many hours, allowing the blood to rush back in. She clambered out of the bed and grabbed her toiletries that she'd managed to gather. There was no shower of course, so she made due with very involved sponge baths in the bathroom. She stumbled across the floor, her eyes still heavy and puffy from her earlier crying jag. So she didn't notice the difference in the atmosphere immediately.

Once she'd freshened up as best she could and changed into her meager clothing, she returned to her room. She threw the bag back on the table there and set her old clothes in the tiny wash pile. She frowned at the pile. The two outfits she had packed, plus the party clothes she'd been dressed in had really seen better days. They were so frayed now it was laughable. She sank down to the bed, wondering what to do now. If she were home, she'd be blowing out candles on her birthday cake, surrounded by family and friends. But all there was here was constant coldness. She shivered, then shivered again. She could feel another crying jag coming on, but there came a knock on the door.

"Come in," she called, her voice thick. To her surprise, Dalton popped his head in.

"You're awake," he stated obviously, but happily. She nodded. She wasn't feeling up to pointing that out right now.

"Hi, what did you need?"

"I need you to come with me," he grinned. It was surprising how often she forgot that Dalton was a vampire, what with his glasses and boyish enthusiasm over new old books. So she simply nodded again and rose to her feet. But before she got very far, Dalton produced one of Dru's black silk strips. Dylan gulped once.

"What's that for?" she questioned nervously.

"It's a surprise," Dalton chuckled. She couldn't believe it. She never heard that sound coming from him. And while she was stunned, he took the opportunity to slip behind her and secure the blindfold. He was surprisingly gentle. Once that was done, he took her hand and carefully led her to the upper level. From what she could tell, they were heading to the main room. There was silence all around her and blackness from the blindfold. She listened intently, but there were no clues offered.

And then, with great yells of 'surprise', the blindfold was yanked off. Dylan blinked at the suddenness of the light that caught her eyes. True, it was only candlelight, but there were so many blazing. She blinked again and took in the room. They were in the main room, at the head of the dining table. Dru and Spike were there. Dru looked ecstatic at catching Dylan off guard. Spike looked, well, like his usual sullen self.

The room had undergone an amazing transformation. Along with the candles, someone, probably Dru, had had the table decorated. There was fine china laid out, with crystal wineglasses. A ruby red tablecloth lay underneath with gold edging glinting in the light. Each chair had matching accoutrements. And at one end, ready for serving was a feast of her favorite. Chinese food. Dylan smiled in spite of herself. Maybe it would be a good birthday after all. And then she caught sight of the cake. Her mouth dropped open slightly. She made her way down to the other end of the table. She looked down at the sheet cake.

The cake was a ghastly shade of green frosting. So very near to the color that their tea party cake had ended up that Dylan wanted to laugh. But instead, the frosted writing on top made her cry. 'For my Baby Doll, on her special day', it read. She turned back to Dru and gave her a rare hug. Dru simply reveled in it and stroked the girl's hair.

"Hey now," Spike interrupted. "None of that. Hate it when they cry," he mumbled to himself. Dylan couldn't help the smile and she drew back to wipe her tears away.

"Thank you Dru," she whispered. The woman nodded, then nudged her to take the seat at the head of the table. The others took their seats, except of course for Spike. He had his own seat wherever he went, what with the wheelchair. The foursome sat down to eat. Dalton poured the wine that Dru had asked him to procure and Dru made a sweet little toast. Dylan, who was used to having a little wine every Christmas under her parents careful supervision, was pleased at this turn of events. As they ate, they talked, and as they talked they began to get silly. Dylan more than the others of course. Vampires were notorious for holding their liquor when they wanted to. But she was unused to drinking more than half a glass. And according to a greatly amused Spike, she drank the good portion of two bottles herself.

It did manage to artificially raise her spirits, until her own happiness took over. It wasn't the same as a family dinner. But the fact that Dru had gone to such effort for her touched her deeply. And after regretfully cutting into the special cake, she found out that dinner was not Dru's only surprise. With a mock groan and patting of her still slim stomach, the Vampiress had motioned for Dalton to reveal her other surprise.

With boyish glee, Dalton rose from the table and moved to a shadowy corner of the room. He rolled forward a cart, loaded down with presents. Dylan gaped at them. There were mounds of things. And they were all for her. After a stunned moment, and a swiftly mumbled thank you, Dylan tore into them. She might try to project the image of a mature, self-confident, world-weary teen, but when gifts made their appearance, she was like any other. She reverted into a frenzied nine-year-old. Paper flew as Dru idly commented on whom each gift was from. Dylan noted in passing Spike often rolling his eyes. It was obvious that he was really only doing this to please Dru, but Dylan didn't care. Dru and Dalton's enthusiasm more than made up for the lack of his. At least until she came to the last present in the pile.

It was a small box and it rattled. And finally Spike sat up a little straighter, wanting to see her reaction. Dru's smug smile told Dylan what she needed to know. This was Spike's gift. And when she opened the box and saw the contents, she laughed. It was full of CD's. And not just any old music. Spike's music. During his informal therapy, they'd argued about what was real music. He enjoyed punk, where she enjoyed anything with a pulsing beat. He'd threatened then that he was going to convert her. And she could see now, the concern in his eyes. He really was like a little boy sometimes, searching for approval. For his entire big bad image, he could be adorable. She lifted the cases out, one by one, grinning over the wide selection. But her hands stopped when she came to the last. Pachabel's Canon. She stared at it, puzzled.

Spike reached for the disc and she handed it over without argument. Dalton hurried and retrieved a CD player without being asked. Spike slipped the disc in and pressed play. Soft piano music began to filter out and Dylan's mouth formed a little 'O'. She'd heard this before, only once, when she was a girl. It was her grandfather's favorite. And she'd never remembered the name of the piece. She'd hummed it once for Spike. He hadn't commented, but had obviously filed the information away in his mind. With a squeal, she launched herself at the smiling vampire. She even managed to knock him back a good foot, before he could stop the movement of the wheelchair. He didn't hug her back, but that was okay.

"Thank you Spike, so much," she whispered.

"You're welcome, pet. Happy birthday," he whispered back. Then he leaned back as she let go of him. "But if you bloody breath a word to anyone, I'll torture then gut you." Dylan laughed. Typical Spike. And then she turned to Dalton and Dru and thanked them as well. And then she and Dru were off to inspect her bounty.

"How did she know it was your birthday?" Angel asked quickly.

"My diary," she supplied just as fast. Angel nodded.

"So, I'm almost afraid to ask, but what else did she get you?"

"Actually, a lot of great stuff. Like, the camera, for instance," she smiled when he blinked and glanced away. She could almost swear he was blushing. She'd had a lot of fun with that digital camera and still had it in fact. "And there were a bunch of new clothes. Books from Dalton, naturally. And some art stuff so I wouldn't be bored all the time."

"I wonder where she got it all?" Angel mused.

"Do you really need to ask?" Dylan muttered dryly. And no, he didn't. Knowing Dru, she'd probably stolen them from unsuspecting victims after she'd drank their blood dry.

"I take it that you liked your gifts?" She nodded. "How did she… no let me guess, your diary?"

"Yup."


	13. Party

Title: Baby Doll

Author Restive Nature

Disclaimers: I do not own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series. They belong to the almighty Joss and I just play with them for my own amusement before putting them away neatly.

Spoilers: Buffy Season Three "Amends"

Summary: A teenage girl with mysterious ties to Angel helps him with his Christmas Amends.

Chapter Twelve

Party

"I'm surprised that Dru managed to sit and go through your diary," Angel commented thoughtfully. "I don't recall that books ever interested her. Unless they had… pictures."

"She knew that everything she wanted to know about me was in that book," Dylan offered. "When Dru gets an idea in her head as strongly as she had that one, you can't stop her."

"What idea did she have about you?" his curiosity was piqued again.

"Well obviously, I was her doll," Dylan scowled. "I don't know. Maybe she saw my diary as some sort of instruction manual."

"Could be," he answered solemnly. "So, did she celebrate Christmas with you?"

"No," Dylan shook her head. "She had something else to occupy her by then?"

"What was that?"

"The Judge."

"She was scheming about that for that long?" he was incredulous. But he should have realized. It would have taken a lot of research to discover exactly where the boxes containing the Judge were located. "But how did you manage to escape his wrath?"

"The same way I wasn't vamped," she smiled.

"Dru warned him off?"

"Actually, it was Spike."

"What's going on Dru?" Dylan asked cheerfully. Ever since her birthday, she'd felt a bit better. Her nights weren't so long and lonely any more. When she wasn't visiting with Dru or Dalton, or helping Spike try to regain the use of his legs, she was playing around with her gifts. They'd ignored Christmas, but Spike had laughingly gotten her drunk on New Year's eve. He teased her all about it the next day and unfortunately, she couldn't remember what she'd done to embarrass herself. But then, she had discovered the pictures she'd taken with her digital camera and found out that Spike had been just as drunk, if not more than she. So she teasingly made her own threats. And thankfully Spike took it in stride, rather than blatantly threatening her, as he would have once done.

Dru turned her had to see her daughter approaching. "We're having a party."

"Another one?" Dru nodded happily. "What is it for this time?"

"It's my coming out party," she announced. "We have to get everything ready."

"Can I help?"

"Of course." So they spent a companionable few hours deciding color schemes. Dru had already chosen red and black, her favorites. But the exact shade of red was a heated debate. And then they chose flowers. Red roses of course, but Dru seemed to want them to smell like lilies instead of roses. Dylan nearly tore her hair out in frustration, as she couldn't make Dru understand that that wouldn't work. Spike finally came along and suggested quietly to Dylan that she simply spritz some lily scented perfume around the room. It's what he did when she was in this mood. Dylan thanked him and the party panning went on.

"Dru, ducks," Spike finally interrupted, "just a quick question." Dru turned to him. "What are you planning on doing with the bit," he nodded his head towards Dylan, "when our guest of honor arrives?" Dru's eyes widened and she turned to stare at Dylan.

"Oh my," the Vampiress whispered. "I gave no thought to my girl."

"What?" Dylan asked with a tiny sense of dread. She'd overheard them talking about certain things. But the Judge meant nothing to her.

"He'll burn the humanity right out of her," Spike continued as though Dylan hadn't spoken.

"Huh?" Dylan was obviously confused. Of all the mystical lore there was in the world, she was only familiar with Vampires. Other demons didn't figure into her world. Spike spared her an almost sympathetic glance.

"You'll have to turn her luv," he instructed Dru. The Vampiress simply nodded.

"Okay, again, do I not get a vote?" Dylan interrupted angrily. Both Vampires turned to gawk at her.

"Look bit," Spike drawled finally, "you get a choice between becoming one of us, or permanent dead. Which do you prefer?"

"Oh," in shock she sank back slowly to the chair she'd resided in before. "Well, if those are my choices, I guess I'll go with turned."

Spike grinned, "knew you'd eventually see it my way!" He glanced up at Dru. "Well, what are you waiting for pet? Have at her." Dru gazed at the girl with sorrowful eyes. She knew that Spike was right. She didn't want to risk losing her baby doll. But it wasn't imperative that she do it that second. Just in that moment, Dalton and some of the others arrived, a large box in their possession.

"One more day," Dru whispered, stroking the girl's hair softly. "I'll give you that time to finish what you need to."

"Thank you Dru," Dylan whispered back shakily. She tried to order her mind. What did she want to do with her last night and day as a human? Watch a sunrise? Finish the painting she was working on? She probably wouldn't care about it as a Vampire, so it seemed imperative to get it done now. And she realized that Dru had known it too. But as Dylan hurried off, she wondered what she'd be like as a Vampire.

"That was certainly magnanimous of her," Angel noted. "So what happened to prevent your turning?"

"The last box arrived," Dylan answered simply. "She got caught up in moving up her preparations. And kind of forgot about me."

"Did you get everything done that you wanted?"

"Yeah, I finished the painting, watched the sunrise, finished all the books I could and listened to my CD's one last time."

"You were really certain that stuff wouldn't matter to you anymore?" Angel wondered. "Because when a person is turned, they don't completely lose all the personality they had to begin with. There are some carry overs."

"Well, I didn't know that, did I?"

"I guess not."

She didn't realize until later that Dru had come to see her. But she'd fallen into an exhausted sleep. It wasn't until she'd awoken and felt the heavy clink of the chain on her leg that she realized she was still alive. Nevertheless, she felt for her own pulse and breathed a heavy sigh of relief when she found it. But soon the panicked feeling set back in. There was a palpable feeling of excitement in the air. But it only served to feed her own trepidation. So she looked to distract herself until Dru came for her.

But there was no coming. Overhead, she heard music begin to play, loudly. There were the muted sounds of laughter and chatting, but Dylan barely paid any attention. The party was starting. She puttered around her room, eating a quick meal distractedly. She reverted back to her bathroom method she'd come up with when Spike had first been injured. She tried to distract herself with a book, but soon threw it down in frustration. It was then that a loud argument caught her attention. She couldn't make out the words, but there was yelling. And then a feeling of emptiness. Dylan gasped at the pain of it. Something was lost.

"What did that come from?" Angel swiftly interrupted.

"The Judge," she answered. "He killed Dalton."

"But why?" Angel was puzzled. The Judge's whole purpose had been to burn the humanity from people. Dalton wasn't a person.

"Because Dalton felt passion for books," Dylan recalled sadly. It had taken her a while before she could summon up the nerve to ask Spike about it. When she'd mentioned it to Dru, the Vampiress had just giggled madly. It was Spike who'd told her the reason behind Dalton's demise. "The Judge viewed that as a betrayal to demonkind."

"What about you?"

"Spike told me later that the Judge could kind of eventually sense that I was there," Dylan frowned. It was one time she was actually grateful to the bleached blonde Vampire. "But Spike warned him off, like I said."

"Why would he have done that?" this really bothered Angel. Spike was a killer. Getting rid of Dylan would have provided the Vampire with amusement and the need to kill. So why did he hesitate? That just wasn't in Spike's nature.

"Because of something the Judge said to him," Dylan provided the clue needed. "He accused Spike and Dru of being too human." Angel's eyes widened a little. They'd never let that slip to Angelus. "Spike told the Judge that since they were the ones that resurrected him, he couldn't do anything about it. That's when he killed Dalton." She halted a moment. "I think Spike realized then that what Dru felt for me was more than just affection. And it would only hurt her if I were killed. So he warned the Judge to leave me be and let Dru turn me. Then neither of them would have any worries. The Judge agreed."

"Lucky for you."

"Yeah, very lucky." She glanced away. More had happened that night. But she couldn't share it with Angel. It would have been too painful for him. The reminder that it was the night he'd lost his soul.

After the commotion had settled down, Dylan wondered at the abrupt silence. Someone was still above her, but it seemed the party was over. She sank back to her bed, her mind turning over the possibilities. She kept berating herself for not having run away when she had the chance. She'd always believed that where there was one chance, there'd be another. She finally fell into a fitful sleep. Which was surprising since she'd slept most of the day away.

And then she began to dream. She was in an unfamiliar place, an alleyway. There were street lamps alight on the street, but only part of the light reached back into the shadow. Dylan felt as if she were floating along, away from her body. She wasn't really there. But there was something there that she needed to see. And finally, a figure erupted from a basement stairwell. He stumbled out into the main alley. Sank to his knees as he howled in pain. Another figure now, a female, cautiously approaching the figure. Dylan watched, trying not to shiver as the male figure rose easily to his feet, Vampiric ridges very much in evidence. The woman came closer; mouthing something that Dylan didn't catch. Her throat closed up as she watched the one thing she despised in this world spun around and drained the woman to a husk. Angelus was back.

And so were the dreams.

She wouldn't have said anything, but Angel brought it up by himself.

"That was the night…" he began, the memory of it still so difficult. But he couldn't regret all of that night. He'd finally had his dream come true, of being able to physically express his love for Buffy. He only regretted the things that had happened after that.

"I know," Dylan smiled sadly. "You were happy. Too happy." She frowned then. "I'm sorry. I'm sure it's still painful to think of, let alone talk of."

"It's always painful," he nodded. "That was the second prediction you made? That I would be a traitor to… what was it?"

"You would betray friends, then foes, then foes and friends," Dylan smirked. "I still don't know where I came up with that."

"It doesn't make a lot of sense, does it?" he grinned. "Aside from the obvious connotation."

"Well, if you don't take it as an instantaneous thing," Dylan shrugged. "But something that happened over time." She sighed when she realized that he didn't understand where she was going with this. "You betrayed your friends by turning into Angelus. And suddenly you were quasi-friends with Spike and Dru." She held up her hand when he would have spoken. "I know, Vampires don't have friends. But your previous friends became your foes. And down the road you betrayed them all again when you were possessed by that spirit ghost thingy." She had more theories on this subject, but she didn't want to bring them up. Angel looked partly satisfied with her answer.

"So," he went back to what she'd said before, "you did know the night I returned? How?"

Dylan looked down at her lap. Should she lie to him now? If she kept telling him about her time with them, he'd eventually figure it out. Tell him the reason why Dru hadn't killed her to begin with. Maybe if she answered this, he wouldn't delve too deeply into that reason? "I dreamed about it," she shrugged. She saw him wince and felt bad for the pain she caused. But this was better in the long run, than his knowing the full truth.


	14. Oh Daddy, My Daddy

Title: Baby Doll

Author Restive Nature

Disclaimers: I do not own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series. They belong to the almighty Joss and I just play with them for my own amusement before putting them away neatly.

Spoilers: Buffy Season Three "Amends"

Summary: A teenage girl with mysterious ties to Angel helps him with his Christmas Amends.

Chapter Thirteen

Oh Daddy, My Daddy

"You- you dreamed about me?" Angel was stupefied. He'd never expected the connection between them to go so deeply. He stared at her, noticing immediately how she couldn't even meet his eyes all of a sudden. Then he realized what she must be embarrassed bout. "How much did you-?"

"See?" her eyebrows shot up as she met his eyes. She blushed furiously. "Oh no, I didn't see that! Just, in the alleyway, afterwards."

"Oh, okay," instantly mollified, he now felt embarrassed as well. But he was glad that the intimate moment between he and Buffy had stayed just that, between them. "I'm sorry. It's just… that was something…"

"Private," she finished for him. "I understand."

"So," he wanted to get past this moment, "you dreamt about my return. Did you tell Dru?"

"No, she didn't come back to me until after you'd returned," Dylan recalled softly. "She was deliriously happy about it."

"Baby, you were right!" Dru sang out as she let herself into Dylan's room. Dylan was still lying on the bed, shivering, exhausted. After the first dream, she'd woken in a cold sweat. She'd wanted to get up, try and distract herself from the dream she'd just had, but a strange power held her in place. Even as she fought against it, slumber overtook her once more. And as the night wore on, the dreams got worse. All of them were centered on Angelus. And she was powerless to stop them. But now, Dru's voice was pulling her back from the brink. She allowed her head to loll in the Vampiress' general direction.

"Right about what?" she croaked, her throat raw from the crying that had happened in her sleep.

"My daddy has returned," Dru was nearly bouncing off the walls she was so overjoyed.

"He's here?" Dylan shrank back a little. "Now?"

"Oh no," Dru giggled. "He had a little errand to run. Then he'll be back. And the fun and games will begin."

"Yeah, I can just imagine," Dylan muttered acerbically. But Dru didn't seem to notice.

"It was so wonderful," the dark haired woman crooned. "He came home to me. All proud and strong he was and the Judge touched him. It tickled," she confided with another giggle. Dylan let her eyes drift shut. _'Just kill me now Dru, please!'_ But the Vampiress just continued to dance around the room. She opened her eyes a crack to see Dru rummaging through her clothes.

"What are you doing?" Dylan demanded softly. Dru held up one dress, then discarded it in favor of another.

"My baby must look her best when she meets her daddy," Dru explained slowly, like she was talking to a child. And that really was the way Dru saw her. So she allowed Dru to help her ready herself, even going so far as to let Dru twist her hair up to the top of her head. She felt slightly like a prisoner getting ready to face execution. Dru dragged her to the upper level of the factory. Dylan held her breath, but when they made their way to the main room, it was empty but for Spike. She let it out with a whooshing sound. She was relieved, but it was only temporary. Spike glanced up as they entered. He took in Dylan's appearance and Dru's demeanor quickly.

"Heard the news then?" he smirked. Dylan shakingly nodded.

"She dreamed about it," Dru crowed triumphantly. "My Baby Doll sees things so clearly."

"You dreamed about what?" Spike demanded quickly, before Dru could go off on a tangent.

"I dreamed about his return," Dylan offered quietly. She slid into a seat, knowing that she wouldn't be able to stand much longer. At any moment the monster could return. She felt like throwing up, and might have, if it weren't for the fact that there was nothing in her stomach. She turned away from the gobsmacked Spike.

"You know what this means, don't you my darling?" Dru moved to Spike's side and drew one fingertip down his healing cheek. "She sees, she knows."

"You're sure about this Dru?" he had to be certain. His princess simply nodded. "All right then. She's off limits to big blue."

"What do you mean?" Dylan broke in nervously. Spike scowled. He didn't enjoy having to explain himself. He was used to being obeyed without question. But he could see that the chit was about ready to lose it. He didn't feel like having to deal with a distraught teen and the resulting fervor it would cause for Dru.

"What it means," he drawled, "is that if Dru was right, and she always is, you'd lose whatever precognitive ability you have, if you were turned. You're valuable to us now. So that means you sty the way you are." He held her gaze. "Got it?" She nodded slowly, but he could see that she wasn't convinced. Unfortunately, the Judge chose that moment to come lumbering in.

"I knew it," he rumbled, an amused grin on his darkened face. He moved slowly, stiffly, into the room. It had been centuries since he was last within this realm. But his powers were slowly coming to the fore. "I knew there was a human here." He nearly spat the word human. But the three occupants of the room watched him curiously.

"Finally got bored of sittin' on your arse then?" Spike grinned.

"I told you my powers would return," the Judge reminded him. "And they are becoming stronger. I felt this one from a distance away." He continued forward and would have reached out to Dylan, had Spike not rolled himself in the way.

"Hey!" he half-shouted, getting instant attention. "Deal's the same on this one here. You don't touch her."

"But she is dirty," the demon growled. He stared at the imperious features of the two that had restored him. Then it dawned on him. "You feel affection for her as well."

"And again, what of it?" Spike growled as well. He certainly wouldn't admit it out loud, but the teen had grown on him a little. She was amusing at least. He was starting to think that the new demon was more trouble than he was worth.

The Judge simply stared at them a moment longer before seeming to accept their edict. He turned away and shuffled from the vicinity. He made his own plans as he went. Once his power was strong enough, they wouldn't be able to stop him. He'd clear this place of all those that he deemed dirty. The girl and those two Vampires included. He'd ally himself with the new one. The one that despised humanity as much as he himself did. And then they'd set this world to burning. He grinned as he returned to his self-created sanctuary. How the world would burn.

Dylan watched the demon until she was sure he was gone, then turned to face Spike. "Thank you," she mumbled. He shrugged in reply. Dru beamed at the pair of them.

"So Spike really did save you," Angel grumbled. It was hard to see, Spike having a spot of his humanity left. It was hard for him to reconcile. The Vampire had done nothing but cause trouble, for him, for Buffy, for her friends. It galled him more than a little that Dylan seemed to count him if not as a friend, then not exactly an enemy, either.

"Yeah," Dylan grinned. She could see the mental debate he was having with himself. "I got to see a different side of Spike than others did. Sure, the only reason he protected me was to further his own ends, but he did it all the same. And don't worry, I never lost sight of that fact. Spike would only keep me around if I had some use or purpose." She could see that he looked a little relieved.

"I'm sorry," Angel shrugged. "It's just that Spike showed up a couple weeks ago and wreaked his usual havoc."

"He did?" Dylan was shocked. "Was Dru with him?"

"No," he shook his head. "Dru left him," he tried to fight the malevolent grin, "for a chaos demon." At her puzzled look, he elaborated. "They're very… disgustingly unattractive."

"Oh, poor Spike," Dylan breathed sympathetically. Angel glared at her, just a little. She wasn't supposed to feel sorry for the Vampire that kept her captive. "I bet he didn't react well."

"He kidnapped some of Buffy's friends," Angel supplied. "Wanted one of them to do a spell to bring Dru back to him."

"Did they?"

"Never got the chance to," Angel sighed. "We got into a tight spot and after that he decided to get Dru back the old fashioned way.

"Tie her up and torture her until she liked him again?" Dylan asked dryly.

"How did you know?"

"It was one of their favorite… games," she blushed, leaving no room for assumption about what she was referring to. Angel shut his eyes. It had been a favorite game of Angelus' and Dru's as well.

"It's plain sickening that you know all this," he offered angrily.

"Well, and this is no slight to you, at least Spike is constant in his affections," Dylan shrugged. And even though she hadn't meant it to, it cut Angel a little. But, he reminded himself; he'd had no choice in his defection from Buffy.

"So that brings us up to your first time meeting me… him," Angel changed from one painful subject to another.

"Actually, not quite," Dylan disagreed. "After the Judge left, Dru went to change and Spike and I talked a while."

"What about?"

"My own plans."

Dylan waited until she and Spike were alone. Dru wanted to go perfect her flawless self for the fun she knew they'd be having this evening. Spike watched her leave as well, and then turned to leave himself, but Dylan's voice caught his attention.

"Spike," she called softly. He stopped wheeling away and turned his head back.

"What is it ducks?"

"Can I ask you a favor?" she spoke quickly, as if afraid he'd deny her for the sheer pleasure of it.

"Depends on what the favor is."

"It's about… him."

"Who? Big Blue?" he wondered what she wanted.

"No, not him."

Spike thought a moment. "Oh, you mean Angelus?" She nodded. He turned his chair so that he was facing her fully. "What about him?"

"He won't want me around," Dylan paused and wet her lips. "I don't think he'll care about any visions I have. I mean, you guys already have Dru for that."

"Pfft!" Spike growled. "I doubt Angelus cares one way or the other," he tried to bluff. But he knew the girl was right. She held his gaze. "Oh all right! Angelus'll probably rip your throat out as soon as he sees you. But don't worry, I'll make sure Dru talks to him first and makes him understand. That make you feel better?"

"That's not what I wanted Spike," she said softly.

"Then what did you want?" he ground out.

"I want you to kill me," she told him steadily. He gaped at her. "If it looks like he's going to do anything, please kill me. I don't care if you have to snap my neck, suck me dry whatever. Just please, don't let him get me." She spoke with such even tones that Spike felt a shiver run down his back.

"You're sure?" She nodded. "You do realize what Angelus'll do to me if I were to have the audacity to take a kill away from him?"

"I know you'll figure something out Spike," she continued with a smile. She could see him wavering.

"All right pet," he finally gave in. "If, and only if it looks like he's about to do you, I'll step in. As a personal favor from me to you, I'll make it quick… and painless."

"Thank you." He nodded and hurriedly rolled away. He couldn't let her know that he actually felt sick now at the thought of losing her.

"You were that afraid of me?" Angel choked out. "You were so afraid that you asked Spike to kill you just to be safe from me."

"Not from you," she countered. "From Angelus. Tell me, was I wrong about what your reaction would have been?" He shuddered and didn't answer, but she knew she was right. "But luckily, it didn't work out that way." He looked into her eyes miserably.

"It was a very close call," Angel muttered. "If you hadn't…"

"If I hadn't what?"


	15. Who The Hell Is This?

Title: Baby Doll

Author Restive Nature

Disclaimers: I do not own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series. They belong to the almighty Joss and I just play with them for my own amusement before putting them away neatly.

Spoilers: Buffy Season Three "Amends"

Summary: A teenage girl with mysterious ties to Angel helps him with his Christmas Amends.

Chapter Fourteen

Who The Hell Is This?

"So after Spike agreed to kill you, then what?"

"Then I met you," Dylan shrugged. He remembered well enough their first meeting.

Angelus had swaggered out of the apartment his soul-full self had procured. It was delicious, seeing the indecisiveness on Buff's face. As if she couldn't quite believe that her beloved Angel could actually be like other men. He was going to have fun with this girl. In the past, he'd been a fan of torturing his victims, always would be. But he had learned that the best torture was mental. And the best way to perform was to know the victim. And thanks to the wimp's stalking skills, Angelus now knew his enemy better than she knew herself. All that reconnaissance was now for one thing and one thing only. To utterly destroy her before he finally killed her. Or turned her, he wasn't sure yet which he preferred.

He knew that Buffy was deeply afraid of being turned into the very thing he fought against. It was just one of the little tidbits that he'd uncovered. He grinned as he'd ducked down into the sewers that would lead him back to the factory. The best part of this torture he was readying himself for was that he didn't really need to exert himself at all. Buffy had so many fears and things she felt guilty about, that he was offered a plethora to choose from. He'd started with her own inadequacies about her femininity. Her fear that she was unlovable, given that her father had walked out on her. And now Angelus had proven what a bastard Angel was. He'd been after one thing and once he'd gotten it, Buffy was dropped. He'd twisted the knife quite a bit in her heart and had had a hard time not giggling at the pain in her eyes. It really was delicious.

He thought as he walked, planning his next step. He'd made Dru and Spike hold off with their plans with the Judge. If he were honest with himself, he was half hoping that the Judge would be a washout. Certainly the demon was powerful. But it remained to be seen how things would go. He was privy to the Scoobie gangs information pertaining to the demon. He sneered quickly at the thought of the childish name they'd given themselves. No weapon forged would take the demon down. He had to resign himself that he might not get the chance to further torture his latest lover. But, on the other hand, Buff seemed to have extraordinary luck outwitting apocalyptic demons. So he would be prepared either way. If the demon managed to destroy this town, he'd dance on the bitch's grave. If not, well then his fun would begin.

But part of him wanted just another taste of Buffy's pain. He backtracked towards town. Spike and Dru could wait a little longer. He needed a little more fun. So, when night fell he made his way into the school. He knew the group well and knew that they'd be here, preparing themselves to face the Judge. They'd research until there was nothing left to go through, then start all over again. He glanced around. Maybe he'd burn this place to the ground when he was done. Angel had liked it too much. It was full of Buffy. The place where she spent so much of her time. It was easy to trap Willow, using simple words to lure her in. But then that damn teacher showed up, then Buffy, catching him in a crossfire. He didn't accomplish exactly what he wanted, but he got the message through. It was one thing when it was between her and him, but he let her know that he knew her weak spots. Her little friends were fair game.

But the teacher bothered him. How had she known that he was no longer Angel? Buffy hadn't figured it out that morning. It hit him then, the vague feeling from Soulboy's point of view. The teacher's features fell into place. The damn woman was a Gypsy. Angelus grinned malevolently. Where there was one, there was usually another. And if he couldn't play with the little girl, he'd extract a little revenge from the clan he despised. He searched around the school carefully, until he caught the teacher's scent. It was easy enough to backtrack to the last place she'd been. A small apartment building. Within a few moments, he had used his preternatural speed to catch the door before it shut behind the unsuspecting person leaving the building. He tracked the scent down to the basement suites. He stopped before the door. He reached out to test it and to his delight, found it unlocked. He twisted the door handle and the door sung inward, creaking on its old hinges.

Inside he could see an older man, seated in a chair, his back to the door. The rest of the room was fairly Spartan. Angelus remained quiet. And the old man began to speak. Unwittingly, he uttered the words Angelus needed. A simple invitation to come in. So he did.

__

'Yes indeed, torture was fun,' he thought to himself a few minutes later as he artfully smeared blood over the wall. It was a message to both Buff and the teacher. Another little jab to the girl's skills in the bedroom, or lack thereof and a hit on the teacher. She didn't do her job and look what happened to the old man. He didn't bother to wash the blood from his hand as he left, just licked it off as he walked. He avoided the usual places that he'd haunted before in effort to find the Slayer. It was time for the next part of the plan.

When he arrived back at the factory, Drusilla was waiting for him. She seemed overly nervous. "Hey Dru, miss me?" he leered at her. She grinned in response. Her arms came around him and he let her hug him.

"My Angel," she sighed, the pulled back. "I have a surprise for you."

"Really?" he continued to leer. He reached for the revealing neckline of her empire waisted gown. "Because they're really not much of a surprise to me anymore."

"Grr," she growled playfully, stepping back. "Bad Daddy. Maybe later."

"What's my surprise then Dru?" She took his hand and led him to the main room. He could see Spike, in his chair and another figure seated at the table. The girl, he now realized, stood up quickly, nervously. He smiled.

"Here she is," Dru grinned, looking fondly at the teen.

"Well, well Dru," he grinned ferally as he slowly approached the girl. She was nothing amazing, but Dru probably wasn't thinking about that. He had decades of mayhem to make up for. Dru was probably eager for him to get back on board. So he'd obligingly give her a show. "I see you've taken to having your meals delivered. Very thoughtful of you."

"Er, mate," Spike tried to gain his attention.

"Not now Spike," he growled, keeping his attention on the teen. He could see her trembling and was intrigued, for he didn't really smell much fear on her. Perhaps she didn't know what he was. Time for a little fun. He let his demon face emerge, watching her carefully.

"I'm serious Angelus," Spike tried again. Angelus turned to fix him with a deadly glare. Perhaps after this meal, he'd take a moment to formally re-introduce the younger Vampire to his rage. It had been too long since he'd taught Spike a lesson.

"And I said not now boy," he growled. He caught the look that passed between Spike and the girl. Something definitely there that he hadn't been aware of. Had Spike made a pet out of this girl? He inhaled her aroma, but it seemed to be purely feminine. Then he realized that she'd been hanging around with Dru for a while. But that no longer mattered. Obviously Dru wanted him to have her, so he would. He gazed at her, tilting his head to the side in a manner he knew others had found engaging. "No need to be afraid, my dear." Her sense of fear emerged again, but then it was swiftly shut down. It amazed hi that he couldn't sense it at all, and he knew it had to be there.

Who was she that she didn't fear him? He ran through and quickly discarded a few ideas. Since he couldn't have Buffy right then t torment, maybe he could make a poor substitute from this one. "What's your name?" There was no answer. His hand moved slowly up her arm, but with the swiftness of a viper on the attack was squeezing around her throat. "I said, what's your name?"

"What does it matter?" the girl ground out. Her eyes were glittering, as hard as diamonds. Angelus was secretly amused. The little girl had grit.

"It doesn't matter," he purred. "But introductions are proper. I my dear, am Angelus."

"I already know who you are," she wrinkled her nose, as if a bad scent had finally drifted her way.

"Ah, I see Spike and Dru have been bragging about me again," Angelus grinned.

"Haven't heard a word about you," she denied. He was about to call her on it, but he could see the truth in her eyes.

"Then maybe we should remedy that," he muttered.

"Why bother?" she taunted. "I already know everything I need to know about you."

"And what exactly would that be?" Angelus growled.

"That you're nothing," she spat. His hand dropped her instinctively. He'd never been treated this impudently in all his time as a Vampire. Even when he'd been cursed.

"Come again?" he growled. She didn't move away from him, stood toe to toe with him.

"You heard me," she taunted. "You come swaggering in here, your so called reputation held in front of you like a shield, when there is really nothing there but a self-involved piece of crap. You've been out of the game for a long while. You've got a lot to catch up on. You think killing me will cement your big bad image? I have news for you. I'm just a kid. Nothing."

"You've got that right," Angelus growled warningly. Who the hell was this girl to talk to him this way?

"But here's the news flash," she went on. "I've seen much, much worse than this pathetic caricature in front of me right now. In fact, you just don't scare me one bit." Angelus glared at her. He couldn't believe the little idiot was actually taunting him. And worse, using the truth to do it. In a way, he had to admire her. But he was tiring of this game quickly.

"Then I guess it's my turn to tell you what I see," he smirked. He paused a moment. "I see a corpse." His teeth flashed in the candlelight of the room. But before he could descend, another hard body had inserted itself between them. His eyes flared when he saw Dru staring up at him. He glanced down and saw that Spike had also gotten closer than he normally would have dared. That alone told him that something really wasn't right about this situation.

"Angel, no," Dru whimpered. He could see the tears in her eyes. He baked off for the moment. The girl wasn't going anywhere. He needed to find out what the hell was gong on here before things went any further. There was obviously something about the girl that he didn't know. And he intended to find out. Once he was far enough back, Dru turned to the teen. "Dylan, go to your room."

The use of her name was enough to get her to move. Dru didn't use her name, preferring to call her Baby, or Baby Doll. So she hurried to do her bidding, but spared one last glance at Spike. Her eyes were clear. She expected a visit from him soon. And he gave one small shake of his head to acknowledge that he knew what she wanted of him.

"So what the hell is all this?" Angelus growled.

"I was trying to tell you earlier mate," Spike spoke up. "Dylan is a seer. We were going to turn her, but Dru said she wouldn't keep her visions if we did."

"A seer?" Angelus scoffed. "Yeah, pull the other leg."

"It's true," Drusilla told him softly. "She predicted your return." Angelus stared down at the insane Vampiress. She wasn't lying to him.

"Really? What else?"

"She knew, right down to the bloody day it would happen," Spike continued. "And she knew about my accident before it happened." Angelus simply raised an eyebrow at that. He wouldn't have called Spike ending up in a wheelchair an accident. That was stupidity on the blonde's part. "And she also predicted a battle, sometime this spring." Angelus sighed and rolled his eyes. "Plus, Dru's sort of adopted her," Spike played the trump card. "Can't very well harm her little doll now, can we?"

"You adopted a human Dru?" he spoke derisively. Then he turned to Spike. "And you let her?" There was no reply; not that he expected one.

"She has power my Angel," Dru breathed. "So much power. And she's my baby doll." They stared at each other a moment, before he grudgingly gave in. He didn't care that the girl was a Seer. What he did care about was not having his ears abused by Dru's voice. Really, he remembered that much about her that when she was upset, it was best to reach minimum safe distance. With her insanity, she was unpredictable and difficult to control in the best of times.

"That was a hell of a first meeting," Dylan recalled dryly.

"I always wondered," Angel admitted. "Were you trying to get yourself killed?"

"Well, I mentioned that I asked Spike to kill me if it came to that, right?" He nodded. "Well, when you came in, he'd just promised to. And then, when you wouldn't permit him to interfere, I guess I decided on the spur of the moment to just get it over with as quickly as possible."

"So that's what the taunting was about?"

"Yeah, I figured that the angrier he got, the more likely he was to just kill me and get rid of the annoyance."

"You do realize that I might have just as easily decided to draw out a long torture just to teach you a lesson." She shook her head no.

"That would have meant I was important to him, and I wasn't," she offered softly. And he couldn't disagree with her.


	16. Chocolate Lovers Only

Title: Baby Doll

Author Restive Nature

Disclaimers: I do not own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series. They belong to the almighty Joss and I just play with them for my own amusement before putting them away neatly.

Spoilers: Buffy Season Three "Amends"

Chapter Fifteen Chocolate Lovers Only

"You know," Angel began slowly, looking to divert the tension in the room. It was exceedingly difficult, as they both recalled their first meeting. Well, the first when he was Angelus. And it occurred to him to mention something that had pricked his attention even back then. "I was really surprised by how close you and Spike actually were." And it was true. Spike had always been odd in his own sort of way. Not crazy like Drusilla had been. But there were certain human peculiarities he held on to. Angel had always surmised that it was time and proximity that allowed them to bond.

"I was surprised too," Dylan agreed. "But of course, with Dru not around as much, he needed a sympathetic ear. And it wasn't really something he wanted to share with the minions. So, I guess I was the guinea pig."

"You mean Spike actually came to you?" Angel was only slightly incredulous.

"Well," that's not exactly it," Dylan shrugged. "It was kind of a mutual thing."

"How mutual?" Angel was suspicious. He recalled that the dynamic between Spike and Dylan had changed when he and Dru had been absent one night, from sunset to almost sunrise.

"Well," she reminisced, "we were arguing about Spike not being threatening anymore. One thing led to another and we ended up spending the night together."

Angel nearly choked. "R-really?" he managed to stammer out.

"Oh yeah," Dylan laughed. "I was so sore the next day that I could barely walk." His eyes widened even more. "And of course, it didn't help that Spike fell asleep on me. I couldn't move for fear of him biting me accidentally." Angel gaped at her, unsure how to respond. He knew that it would be absurd to pass judgement on the teen, since Buffy had had relations with him when she was seventeen. But the major difference was that Angel had had his soul. Spike, most definitely did not. He looked her over, wondering how he and Dru could have missed something of this sort going on between them.

"Spike didn't hurt you, did he?"

"Nah," Dylan smiled ruefully. "Threatened me a few times. But by the end of the night, he was just a big old cuddle bear." Angel nearly choked again at her description of the bleached blonde menace. "You know, I haven't been able to eat chocolate since that night." Angel stared at her strangely, wondering what Spike's perverted mind had come up with.

"Chocolate?" he asked dumbly. "You and Spike and chocolate?" He stopped himself, not really wanting to know what the pair had done. Obviously food was often used in sexual situations and chocolate was certainly at the top of the list. But if Spike had done things that put her off chocolate… Or maybe she couldn't eat it because of the memories that it brought up. Whether those memories were good or bad, he wasn't certain he could handle hearing either way. He glanced up at the girl, who had her head cocked to the side, before he eyes widened.

"Oh!" she exclaimed before slapping one hand over her mouth in shock. After a moment, she lowered it shakily. "You thought Spike and I…?" she trailed off and began to laugh. Angel smirked at her mirth and began to laugh himself. He was relieved that now it appeared that Spike hadn't taken advantage of the girl. And indeed, it was an absurd thought, Spike and Dylan together. Spike would be forever faithful to Drusilla, his dark Princess.

"So what did you two do that night?" Angel queried at last.

Spike watched disconsolately as Dru trailed eagerly after her Sire. The enmity he held against Angelus very evident in his eyes. All the minions, from the mediocrely intelligent to the downright plumb stupid made themselves scarce. They stayed within calling distance, but away from the line of fire, if they could help it. They'd learned quickly that his anger was fierce and immediate. A brief flash of light jarred Spike out of his momentary but hourly fantasy of kicking Angelus' ass to the curb. He spun around in his wheelchair, only to be confronted by the strange sight of Dylan lying on the floor of the main room. She had her little camera over her face and was underneath some of the candles that Dru had lit for him before leaving. His mood lightened a little. She wasn't Angelus by any means, but she could always be counted on for some good reaction to his growling menace.

Spike wheeled himself over to the prone girl and when she didn't immediately focus her attention on him, he leaned over and stabbed her in the stomach with one finger. She reacted immediately, yanking her knees up to protect herself. She angled the camera towards Spike and snapped off another picture, using the flash to blind him momentarily. While he was snarling and rubbing his eyes, she rolled away and came to a standing position.

"What the hell do you think you're doin', you stupid bint?" he raged. Dylan just frowned at him.

"I was trying to take a picture," she sighed in an exaggerated manner. "What are you doing?"

"None of your damn business!" he snarled. He whipped his head back around. "Why are you takin' pictures of the damned candles any way? I ought to let them melt all over you, leave a few burn marks. Show you why you don't play around fire"

"You ought to, but you won't," Dylan mocked, a knowing grin on her face.

"And how do you know that?" he demanded suspiciously.

"Cause Dru loves it and you'd rather rip out your own tongue than upset her," Dylan shrugged. After all this time, it was very evident to everyone that Spike was Dru's love slave.

"Maybe I'll rip your tongue out," Spike growled. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't refute her statement. To his annoyance, she just giggled and shook her head.

"Same rule applies to me as it does the rest of Dru's belongings," she warned. And Spike knew that as well. But that didn't mean he couldn't take his frustrations out on her. He was aware of her watching him and studiously ignored her. When she finally spoke, the words were soft and sympathetic. "Dru went out with him again?" Spike realized then that Dylan never spoke Angelus' name. Expect for that one time when the soulless bastard had threatened her.

"Yep," he agreed loudly, hoping to cover his anger, pain and frustration over the situation. But Dylan was like him in one respect. She could see things through to the heart of the matter. "Took off after the old poof, out to wreak mayhem on little ol' Sunnyhell."

"You're her anchor, you know," Dylan spoke quietly, gauging his reaction.

"What the hell does that mean?" he demanded, eyeing her again.

"You know, a boat anchor?" she sighed, then elaborated. "She's free to float around in circles as long as you're there to keep her from drifting too far." She grimaced. "No, wait, I have a better metaphor. You're a hive!" His eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Oh," he snarled softly, rolling his eyes, "this'll be good."

"No seriously," Dylan grinned. "Dru's the bee, flitting from flower to flower looking for nectar. You're the hive that she instinctively returns to when it's time to make honey." Spike couldn't help but let out a snort of laughter.

"That was bad pet," he chuckled. "Really bad."

"I know," Dylan grinned. "But really, look at it. Dru likes to flit about. She goes from one thing to another. But when she needs safety and security, where does she go?"

"To Angelus," Spike growled once more. "Bastard." Dylan sighed and tilted her head back.

"No silly," she shook her head. "She comes back to her honey. He's just another pretty flower that she'll suck dry before discarding." Spike looked a little heartened to hear her assessment. After all, her other predictions had seemed to come true. Maybe this was one as well. "You know what you need?"

"A good shag?"

"No silly," Dylan giggled, then looked contemplative. "Well, maybe. But I doubt I have the stamina for that. No, you need chocolate."

"Why would I want chocolate?" he sighed, struggling to understand this strange teen. He was instantly disgusted that he was even attempting.

"Because chocolate is the next best thing to a good… shag," she chuckled. "Plus, I'm really craving some right now."

"Well, why the hell didn't you say so," Spike chuckled as well. "Let's go!"

Two hours later, they were back from their sojourn into town. Dylan opened the door to her room and led Spike through it. She had commented earlier on how strong he seemed to be getting. Spike dismissed her compliment, saying that he really didn't have much else to do with his time.

"I still say I should have just stolen this lot," Spike grumbled as he began lifting plastic bags from his lap. Dylan just shrugged and began upending the bags onto the bed.

"And I still say that the cops would have been called and there would have been too much trouble," Dylan countered. "Besides, you did steal that money. Isn't that enough?"

"No," Spike stated emphatically. "I'm evil. I'm a bloody force to be reckoned with."

"Of course you are," Dylan agreed, trying to soothe his ruffled feathers. She turned to face him and her eyes lit up impishly. She leaned over Spike slowly and he drew back slightly, wondering what had suddenly possessed her. "Um Spike?"

"Yeah pet?" he drawled, slightly on the defensive. Her hand reached toward his lap and he suddenly grinned. "Well, fancying that shag after all luv?" She didn't answer but simply ran her hand along the outside of his right thigh. Spike almost sighed at the contact. He'd had very little of it in recent months. But to his surprise, when Dylan lifted her hand she came away with a pack of gum.

"Um, Spike," she giggled, holding it up for him to see. "You are a bad, bad man. We didn't pay for this." Spike laughed as well, good humor restored.

"I told you pet, I'm evil."

"All right Mr. Evil," she grinned, dropping the gum on the bed and snatching a chocolate bar. She tossed it onto his lap and chose one for herself. She seated herself on the bed and unwrapped the candy. After the first bite, she moaned ecstatically. "Ah, better than sex." Spike's eyebrow arched. He unwrapped his own and took an experimental bite. It was good, creamy and sweet. A little like tame sex, and that was not Spike's forte.

"Luv," he drawled after he swallowed the initial bite, "if you think that's better than sex, then you really need a good shag." She just grinned at him and took another bite.

"Hello!" she growled, pointing at herself. "I keep reminding you people. One step removed from virgin. Teenager. Boys I am aquatinted with are all about the 'wham-bam-so quick they don't even get to the thank you ma'am'." Spike snorted at her description. "So yeah, chocolate is better than that sex." She scrambled over the bed for the last bag that she'd yet to unpack. "Wait here. I have something else." She hurried out of the room. Spike polished off two more bars before she returned, carrying two steaming mugs.

"What the hell is this?" he wondered aloud.

"Hot chocolate!" she exclaimed. She handed him one mug. And while he certainly appreciated the warmth radiating from the mug, he wasn't certain he wanted to try the liquid form.

"And what do I want with this?" he frowned.

"Not just that," Dylan giggled. She set her mug down and pulled forth a bag of what looked to be cotton puffs. She ripped the bag open and held it out to Spike. He obviously, had no idea what to do with them and looked up at her expectantly. With a sigh, she pulled out one and held it out to his mouth. He refused again. "Try it."

"No thanks pet," he declined.

"Please?" she asked sweetly. He scowled at her when she tried to pout.

"Why would I want to eat cotton?"

"Not cotton. Marshmallows."

"Same difference."

"Just try it!" But before Spike could refuse again, she jabbed the marshmallow into his mouth, managing to lodge it onto his incisor. Spike pulled his head back, his tongue pushing at the offending article now in his mouth. But then his brain latched onto the sweetness of the confection. He chewed it quickly and swallowed.

"Not bad," he commented. Dylan just grinned. Then she dumped a few in his hot chocolate.

"Now try that," she instructed. He obligingly took a sip, letting one of the chocolate soaked fluffs float into his mouth. He swallowed and sighed appreciatively.

"Better than sex?"

"No," he sighed again. "But it comes in a close second."

They passed the night, talking about the different things that interested them. Dylan continued to prepare mugs of hot chocolate for them. And while Spike hogged the marshmallows, Dylan commandeered all the caramel chocolate bars. Eventually, they began to come down from their sugar induced high, to a fatigue that was overtaking them. They'd shoved the candy wrappers off the bed. During their conversation, Dylan had tried to teach Spike how to blow bubbles with the stolen largesse. But he proved woefully unable, laughing at her every time the gum ended up stuck to her face.

He'd moved, with her help to recline beside her on the bed, tired of sitting up in the chair. And so they continued to talk, telling each other dirty jokes and funny stories. Eventually, they fell to silence, at least until Dylan's stomach let out a loud protest of the chocolate overload. Spike found that hilarious and moved so that he could rest his head on her stomach. He wanted to listen to the funny noises her body made. Neither one commented on what they both knew. Spike needed a friend. He needed someone to hang onto, until Dru flitted her way back to him. And Dylan, strangely enough, liked Spike. Despite his inherent evilness from his Vampiric nature, he could be a likeable guy when he wanted. And maybe Dylan needed someone to hang onto as well.

That was how Dru found them when she and Angelus finally made their way home. She ignored his demands for a moment to check up on the girl that she had claimed for her own. It didn't really surprise her to see them as they were. The mounds of chocolate wrappers did puzzle her. But the sight of Dylan, laid out peacefully the length of her bed, with Spike curled up beside her, his head resting on her stomach, spoke to Dru. But it was their hands, gently entwined that touched her undead heart. She stole into the room and found a blanket to cover them up with. "Baby and Daddy," she whispered to herself, "all tuckered out." Her family was complete.


	17. Patience

Title: Baby Doll

Author Restive Nature

Disclaimers: I do not own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series. They belong to the almighty Joss and I just play with them for my own amusement before putting them away neatly.

Spoilers: Buffy Season Three "Amends"

Summary: A teenage girl with mysterious ties to Angel helps him with his Christmas Amends.

Chapter Sixteen

Patience

"And that is how Spike and I became a little more friendly," she finished relating that story with a sigh.

"With hot chocolate and bubble gum?" Angel teased.

"No, by listening and being there for him when he needed a friend," she countered. "But of course, I feel bad now, kind of."

"What for?"

"For telling him all that stuff about Dru," she explained. She could see he didn't get the connection. "Since she's left him and all. I wonder if they got back together."

"I really can't say I'm losing sleep over that," Angel shrugged, which was the truth. He did wonder occasionally if Spike would return, perhaps with Dru in tow. But they would deal with that if and when it ever happened.

"I don't imagine you would," Dylan shook her head sadly. "I mean, I know it's wrong, but they were the closest thing I had to a family during that time. It was understandable that I'd bond with them and depend on them."

"I still can't understand why you didn't run away once you and Spike left the factory," Angel sighed.

"Stupid sense of honor," she provided.

"What's that mean?"

"I told you that I promised Dru I'd help him," Dylan explained carefully. "I know at first she meant that she wanted me to fix him up, physically. But stupid me, I took that to mean everything. So whether it was physical or mental, I tried to help."

"That's really sweet," he mused. "Stupid, but sweet."

"I'm so glad you agree," she returned dryly. "And believe me, I'm not planning on acting rashly again. Once was more than enough." They were quiet for a long while, both thinking through some things. Finally Angel broke the silence.

"There's one thing afterwards that I thought about," he confessed. "I mean, not that I thought a lot about it, but just once or twice it came to mind. I didn't really thought it mattered that much, being in the past. But…"

"What is it?"

"The whole reason I… he… didn't kill you was because of your visions," he offered awkwardly. He had a difficult time separating himself from the demon, but she just remained quiet and let him work it out. "Any way, did you ever have any more visions? Because, if you did, Dru never mentioned them."

"I didn't have visions, but I did dream about some stuff," Dylan shrugged. "I just didn't tell her."

"What were your dreams?" he asked with interest. Aside from Dru and Buffy, he'd never known anyone else to have visions. Dru's came from her insanity and the power she'd had as a mortal. Buffy's came from her Slayer powers. But he wondered about Dylan's. Maybe she had some heretofore-undiscovered power that fueled her dreams.

"They weren't important," she whispered swiftly, glancing away.

"Maybe they were," he insisted softly. "What were they about?"

"You don't want to know," she wouldn't look at him.

"Were they about me?" he tried again. She finally looked at him, her eyes full of pain and sadness. He didn't need her answer.

"I don't like to hurt people," she told him. "And that's exactly what hearing this would do."

"I think I can handle it," he returned gently. He paused. "What did you dream about?"

Just the same as every night since Angelus' return, Dylan woke from a nightmare. Sometimes they were of olden times, sometimes new. Angelus was always there. And he seemed intent on making up for lost time. Time he'd spent with his soul. So every vulgar, disgusting form of torture that crossed his mind, he was eager to enact. And Dylan bore the brunt of it through her dreams. But tonight had been the worst. Past and present mixed together in a macabre montage of faces that Angelus had killed. The faces had finally culminated in one that Dylan knew fairly well. She'd sat up, gasping for air. The suddenness of this death, the plain cruelty of it tore at her. Dylan felt her heart pounding, knew it was pounding in accompaniment to the victim as she breathed her last.

This time Angelus had gone too far. He'd chased his victim down and didn't even bother to enjoy the fruits of his labor. He'd snapped the woman's neck. Tears leaked from Dylan's eyes as she squeezed them shut, trying to block out the image now engraved in her mind. Never had she felt a dream as deeply as this. Perhaps it was her proximity in knowing this victim? She never questioned that her dream was real. She'd dreamed of Angelus' return, as it happened. So too, was Miss Calendar, Dylan's computer science teacher, about to die. Maybe she was already dead.

Dylan, after almost half an hour of deep cleansing breaths was finally able to push her deep thoughts away. She tried over and over to remind herself that it wasn't her fault. There was nothing she could have done to prevent this tragedy. Just like the hundreds of others that the Vampire population made their way through. She laid a hand across her eyes, wondering what she should do now.

Ever since that first time she and Angelus had come face to face, Dylan had studiously avoided him. Whenever he was in the main room, or prowling about the factory, she'd retreat to her room in the basement. Occasionally she'd seek out Spike and listen to him rant for a while. An urgent natural need forced her to rise from her little nest, but before she could swing her legs to the floor, there came a scratching at her door. Puzzled, she glanced over in time to see it swing open. But there was no one there. There was a rustle of movement though and finally a little head hopped into view.

"Oh," Dylan sighed at the little puppy that had jumped up on her bed. "Where did you come from?" The puppy simply yipped at her and anxiously licked at her fingers. Dylan glanced back out the bedroom door. But no one else was there. With a happy sigh, and a wistful memory of girlhood, when she'd longed for a dog, she relaxed enough to pet the dog. He went nearly ecstatic; his tail wagging so hard that his entire body shook. But their reverie was soon shattered.

"Dylan!" Spike yelled from above. "Get up here!"

She grimaced, wondering what she had done now, or what had happened to put Spike in a bad mood. She glanced at the wall, seeing that indeed someone had unchained her. So she gathered the length and hooked it over her shoulder. She still really hadn't found a better way to carry it on the odd occasions that Dru forgot to remove it from her foot. She glanced down at the dog, which was instantly at her heels, his eyes trained on her every movement. The poor little thing must have wandered in by his own self to the factory. Quickly, she decided to secure it in her room and hopefully let it loose in the morning. It really didn't belong here and she was quite sure that not all Vampires were so discerning in their meals. She only hoped that it wouldn't whine or bark and give itself away.

With her very best commanding tone, she gestured to the dog, "stay!" He obediently sat on the floor and waited. With a half-hearted grin, she pulled the door shut behind her and waited a moment to listen for any telltale signs that he was in there. But all was quiet. She loped up the stairs, grimacing at her rumpled pajamas. Still after all this time, she insisted on changing before she went to bed. It was one small ritual to hang on to. She found Spike at the head of the stairs, looking ready to yell again. But instead he shut his mouth quickly.

"What did you need?" she asked, stifling a yawn. It always took her a few minutes to orient herself.

"Did you see the little blighter?" he demanded. She frowned. "The dog," he clarified. Her face fell. They already knew about it. And since he knew, she really couldn't lie about it. "Damn thing ran downstairs."

"Yeah," she admitted softly. "He's in my room." Spike's gaze softened a little. "Do you want me to get him?" Spike shook his head.

"Nah," he shrugged. "Dru brought him back. Another pet it seems. May as well leave him there for now. I'll tell her where the bloody thing is."

"What's his name?" she asked softly. He looked at her as if she were daft.

"How the hell would I know?" he growled lightly.

"Can I call him Samson?" she asked hopefully. Spike glanced away.

"I wouldn't get too attached to him, pet," he told her sternly. But she could see in his eyes that he understood.

"You wanted to call him Samson?" Angel smiled widely.

"Well, he was so small," Dylan defended herself with a laugh, "it just seemed ironic."

"Yeah," Angel agreed, then sobered. "I remember how upset Dru was when he ran away."

"Oh, is that a euphemism or something else I don't…"

"Oh no. As far as I know, he ran away when Dru got distracted by a much larger meal." He saw her sigh of relief. She really took these things to heart, not that he could blame her.

"I'll try not to," she promised. They both knew it was an empty one. Spike would have reiterated his warning, but a noise caught his attention.

"Ah, Dru's getting up," he grinned. He didn't notice the odd look on the girl's face.

"What time is it?" she demanded swiftly. Spike looked mildly shocked at her imperious tone, but answered nonetheless.

"Almost seven, why?"

Dylan shook her head wonderingly. "Did anything, you know, big happen last night?"

Spike shook his head slowly. Dylan's mind was whirling. Had she been wrong? Was her dream just that, a dream? Was it nothing more than her imagination coming into play? But no, it had seemed to be so real. She was almost entirely sure that Angelus was going to kill Ms. Calendar. But what could she do about it?

"So that was really prophetic?" Angel choked out. He still struggled with the guilt of Jenny's death. More so today because of the unearthly visitation of the First Evil in her form. The apparition had taunted him just as cruelly as he'd once taunted his own victims. If only Dylan had been able to warn someone. Now his guilt was redoubled, knowing his own part in keeping the girl prisoner. She could have averted that disaster.

"I didn't know for sure until after," she was nearly in tears herself. "I have to live the rest of my life knowing that Ms. Calendar died because I didn't try harder to prevent something from happening. I convinced myself that it was just a silly dream."

"But Spike was there," Angel protested. "He would have stopped you. No, the blame is mine."

"I think I already illustrated how easy it was to get Spike out of the factory. I could have convinced him to go out with me again and run away from him. He could only propel that wheelchair so fast." Angel couldn't help himself. He recognized the pain in her eyes because it mirrored his own. He slipped from his chair and took a seat beside her. He gently wrapped an arm around her and let her cry, letting the tears she shed be his as well.


	18. Surprise

Title: Baby Doll

Author Restive Nature

Disclaimers: I do not own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series. They belong to the almighty Joss and I just play with them for my own amusement before putting them away neatly.

Spoilers: Buffy Season Three "Amends"

Summary: A teenage girl with mysterious ties to Angel helps him with his Christmas Amends.

Chapter Seventeen

Surprise

Angel recalled something then that finally made sense. It had angered Angelus at the time. Dru had wanted to go out that evening, but Dylan kept distracting her. And of course Dru didn't want Angelus to go until she was ready. He'd felt his patience growing thin until he'd finally picked a fight with Spike. Dru had come up from the basement from her last visit with Dylan and that's when she'd had a vision. He released the girl and shifted back to look at her. She swiftly dried her tears, sensing that he was ready to talk again.

"You tried to keep us from going out that night?" he realized. She nodded.

"I kept hoping that Dru would decide to stay home and ask you to as well," she explained. "Hopefully long enough to give Ms. Calendar time to get somewhere safe. But obviously it didn't work out."

"No," he agreed. "I was losing patience with both of you and about ready to go out myself. Then Dru had a vision."

"Really? I didn't know that."

"She knew someone was trying to reverse my curse," he explained haltingly. "So we left to discover who it was and stop them."

Dylan lay on her bed, distractedly running her hand through the puppy's fur. She was trying to think up a plausible excuse to keep the Vampires home. But nothing was coming to mind. If she came right out and said that she didn't' want him to kill Ms. Calendar, he'd probably go right out and do so to prove he was under no one's control. He was a Master Vampire, which meant he gave the orders, not took them. And Spike and Dru were right in line after him. As much as Dylan could relax around them, she could not forget their basic nature. She really didn't think they'd let her stand in the way of a kill.

So as she continued to play with the dog, smiling indulgently as he licked and chewed at her fingers, she never noticed Dru's anguished moans from upstairs. But she certainly noticed when Dru flew into her room. "Time for puppy to take a walk," she announced grandly. She snapped her fingers and the dog obediently jumped from the bed. He sat patiently at her feet, staring up at her. Dylan sat up, her mouth going dry.

"Uh Dru, why don't Spike and I take him out?" she offered quickly. "You know, it's been a while. And Spike really doesn't get out enough. You know, a little fresh air would do him good. He's been smoking so much. I'd bet he'd enjoy-!"

"Hush now," Dru interrupted. "Nonsense! You stay and keep my Spike company. He's a tired boy tonight." Before Dylan could protest, Dru had unlocked her foot from her chain, frowning when she realized that someone had already unchained her from the wall. But she shrugged it off. The girl was still here. It didn't matter. With a smile, she scooped up the dog under her arm and left the room. "Be a good girl," floated back to Dylan. Dylan squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to keep the tears from falling. But it was no use. Events had been set in motion. Things she was powerless to stop.

She stayed in her room for a long while after. But the call of nature finally forced her out of her stupor. She gathered her things and headed to the bathroom. After dealing with that, she decided to try and do something to take her mind off what was happening. But this evening, her paints, her books, nothing held her interest long. So finally, she decided to do her wash. She hunted around until she found the little detergent she rationed for herself. She gathered the small pile of clothes and the bottle and headed upstairs again.

Spike found her there, scrubbing furiously at the soiled garments. "There you are," he smiled. But it faltered a little when she didn't respond. He watched her for a moment, noting how quickly she was blinking to keep back the tears in her eyes. He pondered a moment. "What's wrong pet? Is this about that dog?" She shook her head and continued to scrub. "What is it then?"

"It's nothing Spike," she snapped at him, then instantly regretted it. She slowed her motions, then finally stopped, turning to apologize. But he held his hand up.

"Something's obviously bothering you if you forget yourself enough to yell at a vicious killer," he teased. Yet there was truth to his words. It didn't really bother him. He was just amazed that she'd lasted as long as she had without a major tantrum or outburst. Of course it was just his luck to be on the receiving end of it. But she'd been patient with him, listening to his rants and rage over his inability to walk. He found that he actually did feel like reciprocating the favor.

"I'm sorry," she sighed. She put the shirt she'd just finished into her rinse water and swirled it around. "I just didn't sleep well," she offered. Which was true.

"Bad dreams?" he asked softly, noting the wince she gave. She nodded reluctantly. "Well, you know what I've learned?" She looked at him curiously. "There's two things that help bad dreams."

"What's that?" she asked in spite of herself.

"A good shag," he leered outrageously at her. She giggled softly. "Or a good cup of hot chocolate. How about it ducks? I managed to score another few boxes." She sobered up again and shrugged one shoulder. He cocked his head at her. "That bad, huh? Not even fixable by chocolate."

"Not tonight," she whispered. But inside, she was wondering if maybe talking over cocoa would help. But as she glanced at the bleached blonde Vampire, she knew it wouldn't matter. He had to know what Dru and her Sire were up to. And obviously was condoning it. He had no choice but to. Dylan knew well enough that Spike wasn't in charge anymore. And that irritated him to no end. The minions were quick enough to obey his orders, but it wasn't to him that they looked for guidance. She chanced one more look at him. He looked… disappointed. She carefully reconsidered. Maybe Spike needed to talk as well. "Well, okay," she relented. "But I need to hang these to dry first." With a grin Spike nodded. It turned to a saucy grin, he pointed out the underwear already hung on her makeshift clothesline.

"Dru's got good taste, hmm?" he grinned. Dylan followed his finger and blushed quickly. He was looking at one of her matched sets in blue tones that matched her eyes.

"Dru didn't pick those out," she mumbled, then instantly regretted it. She ducked her head as she heard his deep, throaty chuckle.

"I stand corrected then," he teased again. He seemed to delight in seeing what shade of red he could get her to before she'd eventually run away from him. "You've got good taste. Liking the silky feel of good lacy-!"

"Spike!" she shrieked, mortified. He laughed and turned himself around.

"I'll just go get the hot chocolate started then," he offered.

"Don't you dare be picturing me in that!" she yelled after him.

"Course not, ducks," he called back, his tone letting her know that that was exactly what he was doing. She groaned and buried her face in her hands, then blinked when she realized that she'd just gotten soap in her hair. She growled softly, then dipped her hands in the cooling rinse water. She brought her hands to her face and tried to cool her burning features. Finally breathing normally, she dried her hands and face on the ratty old towel and quickly hung the remainder of her clothes.

She hurried to Spike's room on the main floor and found him already waiting with the cocoa. He shifted to make room on his bed for her and she joined him. He handed her the steaming mug, and without pause, launched into some of the fashions that he'd seen over the years. Dylan knew that he was trying to take her mind off of what was bothering her. She appreciated it immensely. She listened to him for a while, and finally began to get into the flow of conversation.

Eventually they ran out of steam, and hot chocolate. Hearing the return of the other Vampires reminded Dylan sharply of what she'd been trying to forget all evening and with a quiet smile of thanks to Spike, she removed herself from his room. He followed after her more slowly, watching her return to the bathroom to retrieve her now dry wash. He kept an eye on her until she disappeared down to her room. He knew there was still something wrong, but she hadn't shared. He hadn't pushed either, knowing through long experience that sometimes women didn't like to share. Sometimes they liked to hoard their little miseries until such a time that they could explode them all over the unsuspecting males in their lives.

Dylan hurried as quickly down the steps as she could without endangering herself. She really didn't want to see anyone. She didn't want to know if they'd accomplished what they'd set out to do. SO she busied herself with folding and putting her laundry into the backpack that she still had. It was large enough to hold everything, ever since Dru had absconded with her diary. The sounds of an argument drew her attention, but she paid it no mind. It was a common thing to hear the yelling between the two male Vampires.

The dog came running down the steps again, jumping up to her bed. She let him, as the poor little thing seemed to be scared of the raised voices. Dylan tried to calm him down and wished that they'd hurry up and have this out. And her wish was granted. The yelling stopped. Dylan relaxed against her bed, letting her eyes drift shut. She wasn't tired yet, just needed to compose herself. She really dreaded seeing Dru and possibly having her fears that Ms. Calendar hadn't survived this night come true. But she knew she would eventually. It would be harder to face him, as he was the one that did it, if her dream was correct. And she was sure now that it had been. She needed time to prepare herself. She could allow no weakness to show through. She thought a few minutes about going now and getting it over with, but she rejected that course of action. They'd think it strange if she willingly approached him. She did her best to stay away from him. He'd figure out something was wrong and perhaps mistaking it for a prophecy, give her no rest. Better to let things happen normally.

She did drift off into a little nap. It was the acrid scent of smoke in the air that woke her. That and the yelling. She shot up, disoriented. Why was there fire? The candles around the factory were carefully tended. No Vampire would risk setting his or her lair on fire. The yelling continued. But she could only hear him. She didn't hear Spike or Drusilla. Perhaps they were gone already. Or worse. Without second thought, Dylan hopped off the bed. The factory would be a death trap in a matter of moments, if it weren't already. She thanked whatever powers that she'd already packed all her clothes. She snagged the bag from the foot of the bed, scolding herself for worrying about her clothes when she needed to get out now. But her hands worked independently of her brain. At the table by the door, she reached for the digital camera Dru had given her. She wondered why she grabbed it even as she settled the wrist strap appropriately. The dog was yipping, she realized belatedly, adding to the noise around her. Dylan yanked the door open and the puppy fled. Dylan recognized the pure terror in the animal and realized that a similar panic was engulfing her. Smoke had filtered downstairs and she could only be glad that heat tended to go up. But there was no escape for her except up. She'd have to brave the blaze.

She heard the dog growling at the foot of the stairs. She felt like growling herself. A small part of her mind, the one that was rational even in the most desperate moments, noted that she was definitely panicking and beginning to an animalistic stage to combat the stress. It didn't make her feel better to understand that, but she did and that was all there was to it. Without thought, she scooped up the dog, realizing that it wasn't barking, because for some strange reason, it had retrieved Miss Edith. Perhaps he was looking for Dru to rescue. She was his Mistress after all. . Animals were completely capable of bravery too. She saw it on television all the time. They even dedicated shows to it. With a mental sigh, Dylan ran up the stairs and into the inferno.

After she got out, she was amazed that she'd been able to navigate the maze of smoke and reach the back door out to the alleyway. She set the dog on the ground and he let loose the doll. Dylan picked it up with a sigh. The dog looked up expectantly at her. "I don't know where she is, boy," she shook her head. Great, now she was talking to the dog like he'd understand her. She heard the sirens of the fire truck as it raced towards the latest call. It would be a few minutes yet. And then it struck her. She was free. There were no chains holding her back. She took a deep breath and searched the shadows, but saw nothing but the darkened form of the walls and emptiness beyond that. The dog barked, trying to get her attention. The loyal little thing wanted to get away from the fire, but was trying to remind her as well. "All right boy," she giggled. "Let's go home." She bent over to pat him once, and that was her fatal mistake.

The back door slammed open again, and there he stood, Vampire face in the open, eyes blazing. He raised an eyebrow and took in her backpack slung over her shoulder, the camera on her wrist and Miss Edith in her arms. He glanced down at the dog, now growling menacingly at him. "Waited for me, huh," he taunted. "I'm touched, truly," he sneered. He grabbed her arm. "Let's go."

And so Dylan marched along helplessly, silently cursing herself for taking so long. She should have left the clothes. Not worried about the camera, or the doll. She should have kept going the moment she made it through the door. How stupid was she? She said nothing to him as he followed after Spike and Dru's scent. Obviously the pair had some idea of where to go. They had a contingency plan, as most Vampires did, if their lair was compromised. Dylan didn't know what it was, and neither did he, if his frequent stops to scent out changes in direction were any indication. But, they found the others before dawn. And the little puppy stayed with them the whole way.

"So if you'd been just a little faster, you would have escaped," Angel ruminated.

"Isn't it strange how things work out?" Dylan laughed. "I actually did have a number of chances to escape, but my stupid brain thought too much and messed it up."

"It's too bad that you didn't go a little wild and just rely on your instincts," Angel noted. "Then you might have reacted more quickly."

"Yeah, but you notice that the other wild thing with us came back too?" she smiled, remembering the puppy. No matter how many times Angelus had snarled at the dog to go away, the little thing had determinedly stuck with them.

"I think he was protecting you," Angel smiled fondly.

"Was I still in danger?"

"Very much so."

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," Angel snarled as he stomped into the crypt that the others had staked out as a temporary lair. He pulled Dylan forward and pushed her towards Dru. "Found your Doll for you baby." He swaggered a little. As much as he didn't care for the kid, he wasn't above using his timely finding of her to elevate himself in Dru's eyes. If it had been just him, he'd have left her to burn. As it was, he really only took her along to prevent her from finding Buffy and her Watcher and possibly spilling secrets she had no right to.

With a strangled exclamation, Dru rushed forward and wrapped her arms around the girl. Dylan's eyes widened at the strength of the embrace, and sputtered a little until the Vampiress let her go. "Oh my girl, I was so worried about you," she cried. She pulled back and looked the girl over, making sure that no harm had befallen her. Then she caught sight of her other doll. "Oh, Miss Edith!" She turned to the other male Vampire. "Look Spike, our girl saved Miss Edith." Spike smirked, then shook his head. He'd kind of been hoping that Dylan had made it out. But it seemed that that was not in the cards. "Isn't she such a brave girl!" she crooned. A little bark caught her attention and she looked down to see her puppy trying to climb her leg, looking for his fair share of attention. "And my doggy! Oh my dear!" She was so happy that she was choking up.

Spike rolled his eyes, then caught sight of the fuming Angelus. The bloke looked ready to explode. And Spike understood immediately. He'd nabbed Dylan and dragged her along, looking to be the big man, as always. But Dru hadn't even looked at him, instead turning all her worry and concern to the girl. Spike was sure that Angelus hadn't even rescued the girl. Probably caught her before she went too far and brought her along, hoping to get back in their good graces for leading the Watcher to their lair in the first place. And upsetting the man enough to attack in such a manner. Well now, it was an interesting night. Very interesting indeed.

"I didn't…" Dylan began. "I had no idea that Buffy and Mr. Giles were nearby."

"That's the whole reason I took you with me," he shrugged. "I'm sorry." She smiled sadly.

"Bleh," she grimaced. "What's to be sorry for when it all worked out for me in the end?"

"I know," he agreed softly. "It's a word that means a lot in your mind and heart, but not very much to anyone else. But I am all the same."

"I know you are," Dylan smiled at him. "And I am too."


	19. Dolls On Parade

Title: Baby Doll

Author Restive Nature

Disclaimers: I do not own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series. They belong to the almighty Joss and I just play with them for my own amusement before putting them away neatly.

Spoilers: Buffy Season Three "Amends"

Chapter Eighteen

Dolls On Parade

"I still can't believe that you grabbed all that stuff and still made it out," Angel chuckled.

"Oh, that was really stupid of me," Dylan moaned and covered her eyes in embarrassment. "There was a fire, my life was in danger, and I didn't want to give up a stupid camera."

"Well, it was a gift," he tried to soothe her.

"Yeah," she agreed quickly. A mischievous glint came into her eyes. "I sure had fun with that thing."

Angel almost laughed out loud when he realized what she was referring to. "I remember. I don't think I was ever so…" He grinned. "When Spike and I saw those pictures, we were…"

"Gob-smacked?"

"Completely."

Angelus had been able to find them a new lair, fairly quickly after the fire at the factory. They'd only spent a few nights in the crypt. As a precaution, he'd suggested to Dru that she tie up Dylan to prevent the girl from escaping again. Dylan had glared at him. But he didn't care. Spike had appeared with a length of rope and with a slightly apologetic smile, had anchored her ankle to his, before Angelus could suggest something further. They'd passed the day quietly. There was too much tension to rest well. Aside from Dru that was. She'd lain down beside Dylan, Miss Edith in the crook of her arm; the dog curled up at her side. Spike had volunteered to stay awake, to make sure that the Slayer and her cohorts hadn't followed them. Angelus drifted off for a while, but his own tension prevented him from slumbering, as he should have. Dylan slept not at all, not trusting the demon that had dragged her here, despite the proximity of Dru and Spike.

She realized that day that once Dru had fallen asleep, Spike had positioned himself on Dylan's other side, instead of beside Dru. She had thought that he'd prefer being closer to Dru. But she figured out that he was protecting her from Angelus. He didn't trust the Vampire either. It cheered her a little, but didn't help her sleep. Finally, Spike could stay awake no longer. Dylan watched his eyes drift shut. She glanced around; noting that Dru was completely under. Angelus was out as well. She sat there, back pressed up against the wall. She wondered only briefly if she should try. But her earlier failure at the factory prompted her. And the murmured words of Spike.

"What are you waiting for?" he whispered, his eyes never opening. Dylan stared at him in shock. Was he talking in his sleep? But then, his foot twitched convulsively. She gulped. It had to be a sign. Her hand crept towards the knot, finding that it was much looser than it should have been. Her eyes flew to Spike. He'd done it deliberately, she was sure. And then declared his watch. He wanted her to escape. She felt a little choked up. Her hands reached for the knot, but just as she began to loosen the rope, a growl came from the wakening Angelus. She snatched her hands back, hurriedly placing a look of innocence on her face.

Angelus rolled over and instantly caught sight of Spike slumbering awkwardly in his chair. He growled again as he rose to his feet. He barely spared a glance at the girl, noticing only the other Vampire. "Spike, you're doing it again," she said sweetly. She turned to Angelus. "Is it your turn for watch? Spike is getting really tired."

"Tired my ass," he snarled. "Sleeping is more like it."

"Don't be silly," she shrugged. "Didn't you hear us talking just now?" Spike's eyes were open now. Angelus looked slightly confused.

"Did I do it again pet?" Spike chimed in. Dylan grinned up at him and nodded. "One of these times I'm really going to nod off," he improvised, pretending not to notice Angelus.

"Well he's awake now," Dylan jerked her head to the side. Angelus stood before them, seething, but they ignored him. Dylan was pretty sure that he was about ready to take either one of them apart and didn't really care which. But luckily, Dru was waking up.

"I'm hungry," she moaned, her eyes still unfocused.

"I think we all are Dru," Dylan soothed her. "Don't worry, sun will be down soon." Dru nodded and busied herself petting her dog.

The moment sun set, Dru and Angelus burst from the crypt looking immediately for a meal. Dylan followed after them, pushing Spike over the rough ground. "You know," Dylan smiled down at the agitated Vampire. "It's too bad you don't look your age." H twisted in his seat to glare up at her.

"Why is that?" he demanded shortly.

"Cause then people would see me pushing you about and gossip about how rich you must be to have such a little tart pretending to love you to get an obviously large inheritance." As she planned, he laughed. They followed idly after the other two, Spike not protesting when Dylan hung back to avoid the bloodier confrontations. After part of the night had gone by, with Angelus disappearing for a bit of it, they made their way back to the crypt. Then Angelus reappeared, some more supplies in hand. Namely, chains for the teen. With another apologetic smile, Spike snapped them into place.

So she was heartily relieved when Angelus announced that they were moving. He brought them to the old mansion on Crawford Street. Dylan had no idea that it was even there. But when they entered the place, she silently declined Angelus' tour. She explored it briefly, finding the accommodations slightly more comfortable than they had been at the factory. She chose a small room for herself and deposited her belongings there. She removed the dust cloths from the furniture and wearily lay down on the bed, falling right to sleep. She woke with her leg chained to the wall. She'd been so tired that she hadn't even noticed. It wasn't tight, indicating that it had been Dru or Spike. Dylan didn't mind and had been expecting it.

She had woken a little later from her nap, to find herself alone with Spike once more. After washing up she crept out to the garden to see what he was up to. He was obviously angry. So as usual, she spent time with him, calming him down. After she left him, she returned to her room and gathered what she could to clean up a bit. A week without being able to wash her clothes wasn't entirely pleasant, but she was glad she had clothes to change into when needed.

Dru and Angelus returned, close to dawn. Dru was trailing after her obviously agitated Sire. Her face looked slightly crestfallen. Dylan wondered what had happened between the two but made no effort to discover it while he was around. And so the days and nights went. Se continued to avoid him and spend more and more time with Spike. She discovered that he could stand and walk, and after her excited squeal, promised not to reveal his secret. And she knew why. He was plotting against the other Vampire to get Dru back. And she didn't blame him one bit, cheering him on in her head.

But Dru was strangely down; as if she sensed something wasn't quite right in her little world. It was bothering her deeply. It could have been Spike's eventual turncoat act he was planning. Or perhaps it was Dylan's increasing need to get away from Angelus. It may even had been the big man himself sowing discord between the other three. And each of the others noticed it. Angelus brought Dru gifts, as did Spike. But it was Dylan's idea that finally got her giggling.

One evening, she emerged from her room, her camera in hand. She'd set up her surprise for Dru and hoped that it went over well. Dru had just had to go through the entire rigmarole of warning off the minions again. But it was done and Dylan felt that she could roam about the mansion much as she did at the factory. "Hey Dru!" she called as she entered the living room. The Vampiress looked up as the teen approached her. Dylan took a seat next to her and leaned over to whisper in her ear as quietly as possible. And by the way Dru's eyes lit up, Dylan's surprise was a welcome one. With enthusiasm she hadn't shown in a while, she jumped up and dragged the teen back towards her room.

"Where are you going Dru?" Angelus asked, a slight whine to his tone.

"Shh!" she growled playfully. "It's a secret." Angelus' eyes widened.

"Er, what's the camera for pet?" Spike butted in, staring at both of them.

"Taking pictures," Dylan replied flippantly. Spike rolled his eyes. She began to drag Dru away. The other two followed, but Dru turned to them.

"No boys allowed," she taunted before slamming the door shut in their stunned faces.

"I remember," Angel grinned widely. "We listened at the door for over an hour."

"Oh really?" Dylan drawled.

"That was quite the, er, interesting conversation," he smirked.

"I know," she smiled, the perfect look of innocence on her face.

"Oh, you bad girl," he chided teasingly.

"Dru," Spike and Angel heard clearly from their vantagepoint directly outside her closed door, "the blindfolds are in that trunk. Can you get them?"

"Of course luv," Dru giggled. "Can't do this without 'em." Angel raised his eyebrows, a leer on his face. Spike just smiled mildly. He certainly approved whatever Dylan could to do make his Princes smile. There was a pause as they heard something heavy being dragged across the floor.

"What did you bring?" Dru's voice was excited.

"It's on the table," Dylan replied.

"Oh," Dru moaned. "Whipped cream!" This evening all of a sudden seemed full of promise.

"Okay, hang on a second," Dylan called out. There was a longer pause.

"Oh, my baby knows I love black lace," Dru giggled. This time Spike raised his eyebrows. Things seemed to be occurring behind the door that he'd not considered at all.

"Dru, did you want to take a picture?" A slight pause. "Okay, just point it where you want and click on that button." It went on for over an hour. By the time Dru finally emerged, her eyes glazed, dressed only in a robe, both males were quite worked up. She ignored them and moved off to her own room, making sure to shut the door firmly behind herself.

By mutual unspoken agreement, the Vampires in the hallway parted ways and retreated to separate corners. Angelus headed out for a kill to take the edge of his sudden tension. Spike debated which female to approach first, but the decision was taken from him when Dru emerged from her room, dressed again and looking to go out as well. So Spike was left behind, not sure that he really wanted answers as to what Dylan had done to put Dru in her mood. He'd much rather let his imagination interpret things this evening.

"I can't believe you were deliberately doing that," Angel sighed and shook his head.

"Well, what about you guys?" Dylan cried defensively. "Listening at the door like a pair of horny teenagers." Angel continued to shake his head.

When Dru finally returned later that evening, Spike nearly accosted her, wheedling to find out what she and Dylan had been up to. But Dru just kept the Madonna like smile on her face. Angelus soon followed, wiping blood from his large hands. Spike shut his mouth, not wanting to be heard begging, even though he wasn't really. He was just curious. Luckily for him, Dylan emerged from her room, having heard Dru return.

"Hey!" she greeted them brightly, even seeming to include Angelus in her smile. Then she turned her attention to Dru. "Did you get it?" Dru nodded catching Dylan's enthusiasm.

"The boys will bring it here as soon as they can," she told the teen.

"Bring what?" Spike interrupted, looking back and forth between the two.

"The computer," Dylan supplied succinctly.

"What the hell do we need a computer for?" Angelus growled.

"To see the pictures silly," Dru giggled. His eyes grew wide, and predatory.

"You can see them now, if you want," Dylan offered. "I just want to upload them to a computer so that you can see them a little better. That little window on the camera doesn't really show much detail. So I-!"

"What are you bloody waiting for?" Spike interrupted quickly. "Go get your bloody camera."

"All right Spike," Dylan smiled, sharing a knowing look with Dru. She ran to her room, then ran back, the digital camera in her hand. All three Vampires gathered around her, as she sat in a chair. Spike was leaned over one arm, while Dru perched on the other. Angelus leaned over her shoulder from behind. For once Dylan was able to remain cam around him, knowing he was more interested in these pictures than in killing her. It was the oddest sensation she'd ever felt.

Trying to hold back a naughty smile, she quickly dialed through the pictures until she reached the ones they wanted. She snuck a glance at the men, trying not to giggle at their gaping mouths and then the hastily covered reactions. Dru merrily narrated each picture for their benefit. And the women had a good time.

"I still can't believe the fuss you two made over a tea party," Angel snickered.

"Hey, it was fun," Dylan protested indignantly. "And it put Dru in a good mood."

"True," he acquiesced. "But I always wondered about the black lace?"

"Oh," she smiled broadly. "Those were cookies made with black walnuts. They were called lace cookies, but Dru always referred to them as black lace." He nodded in understanding.

"And why was Dru wearing your robe?" he couldn't help asking.

"She got whipped cream on her dress," Dylan explained with a naughty grin. "We wanted to get it out before it set and stained the satin." He nodded again. "God," she chuckled, "we really had you two going."

"Yeah, you did," Angel shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, not really meaning it. "You know, I still have all those pictures. They're in that album over there. Some of the ones of the dolls at the party were quite artsy." She gestured to the bookcase where she'd pulled the first album.

"At least you had some good memories from that time," he cocked his head to the side. "As strange as it may have been. I'm glad for that."

"So am I," Dylan sighed. "Cause it all seemed to go downhill from there."


	20. Demon Forth

Title: Baby Doll

Author Restive Nature

Disclaimers: I do not own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series. They belong to the almighty Joss and I just play with them for my own amusement before putting them away neatly.

Spoilers: Buffy Season Three "Amends"

Summary: A teenage girl with mysterious ties to Angel helps him with his Christmas Amends.

Chapter Nineteen Demon Forth

"It went downhill?" Angel puzzled. "How do you mean?"

"Well, after I showed you guys the pictures, I cleaned up the party stuff," she explained haltingly. "And by then, it was almost dawn, so I was pretty tired." He nodded. "I went to bed and…"

"Bad dreams?" he surmised.

"Well, yes, you could say that."

Dylan snuggled down into the bed. After washing the sheets, she was finally able to get to sleep without spending half the day sneezing from the dust motes. She dropped off quickly, still enjoying the expressions on Angelus and Spike's faces when they had seen the dolls she and Dru had dressed up for a quaint tea party. She knew they were expecting something completely different. It amused her that her friends would think her worldly that she could contemplate certain acts without even blushing now. Of course, the thought of her friends brought her down a little, but Dylan consoled herself. It wasn't like this was the first time she'd ever been taken from one set of friends and plopped into a new situation. She'd done fairly well in each instance and had somehow managed to land on her feet, so to speak, again.

The dream started the same way that her earlier vision had. She was surrounded by darkness. So completely black that she couldn't even see stars behind closed eyes if she bit her tongue. And time stretched. She was waiting it seemed for centuries untold. But whispers came to her. They made no sense, but she heard them all the same. And finally movement. She was moving. She was perfectly stiff, but being carried it seemed. And then the waiting began again. And finally, the darkness fell away. The light hurt, not having seen it for so long. But there, before her, a figure walked away from her. It turned abruptly and she tried to suck in her breath, but none was available. Angelus. He approached again, stopping just inches from her. His hand hovered near and her mind cried out for him. She needed him. But he pulled his hand away and she felt the sharp pull of the sword she knew was still in her chest.

Time passed again. He came near many times, looking her over. And every time he came near, she screamed for him. But he couldn't hear how she needed him. But finally, the time came when she knew he was ready. Her heart sang as he performed the ritual. But then it sank as she saw him dip his hands in the blood of the one before him. 'Fool,' her mind cried. 'Did he not know? Was she forever doomed to be without him?' The sharp pain again in her chest when his hand finally connected to the sword. Pain so deep at the wrong connection. It was all wrong. Darkness again. But in the darkness, the craving came. Soon, she would have it. She would the one of the angelic face and rivers of his blood.

Dylan woke with a start. Her mind raced. This dream was so much more complete than her vision had been. Nothing really made sense, but she knew now that the time of fulfillment of the prediction was nearing. It would happen soon and if the past was anything to go by, there was no way she could stop it. She shivered as she unconsciously remembered the yearning she'd felt to have Angelus complete her. It wasn't a physical craving in the sexual sense, she knew that much. It was as if there was something Angelus had that could complete her. Only him and no other. She feared to go back to sleep. She felt defiled and knew tat she'd find no true rest.

So she busied herself about her room for the rest of the afternoon. She was still chained to the wall and she supposed that all the other Vampires were resting. So she reorganized her room and tried to forget the feelings that had accompanied her nightmare.

When Dru finally arrived to let her loose, she was about ready to climb the walls. But the set of Dru's features warned her that she wouldn't get her wish. The Vampiress appeared to have a heavy heart regarding some matter that Dylan wasn't aware of.

"It's time, Baby Doll," she whispered, almost regretfully.

"Time for what?" Dylan choked out, even more afraid than she'd been before.

"Time for the world to end," Dru replied softly.

"You found it?" Dylan accused her voice harsh. Dru didn't look at all surprised. She knew and remembered Dylan's third vision. And she knew now what it referred to.

"We're going to get it tonight," she grinned suddenly, her mood lightening up. "And when I return, Mummy's going to make sure her little girl grows up."

"What Dru?" Dylan was confused by her sudden change. What was she referring to? And then, with a sharp gasp, Dylan realized. Dru was going to turn her. It had been threatened so many times before, but now, Dru made it seem to be a promise. Something was going on here that was major. And Dylan knew it centered on the thing of her dream. "It won't work Dru," she protested immediately. Dru misunderstood her though.

"Oh yes it will," she grinned. "I'll make my baby into one of us and we'll dance together in hell."

"No Dru," she cried out, watching in dismay as Dru swayed around the room, once again lost in a melody that only she could hear. "Dru, listen to me!" The swaying stopped. "Dru, this thing, it won't work. He won't be able to do it. Whatever he's planning, it will fail."

Dru stalked forward, her face already transformed into its natural demon form. "What did you say?" she hissed. Dylan cringed, shrinking back away from her. "Are you sure?" she demanded. Dylan wasn't sure what was scarier, her demon or her sudden lucidity. She nodded slowly, reluctantly. "My baby saw this?" Another nod. Dru pulled herself sharply upright. "No, my baby is wrong. My Angel will succeed. You'll see." And with that she strode angrily from the room. Dylan breathed a sigh of relief. But now, she was even more stuck than she'd been before.

"So you warned Dru, but she really didn't believe you?" Angel clarified.

"Yeah, she had a lot of faith in you," Dylan commented wryly, wrinkling her nose. Angel didn't react, just sat pondering what she'd told him.

"You knew, didn't you?" he began. "You knew what I needed to complete the ritual."

"I didn't know in the sense that I read it in a book," she explained. "All I knew was that that thing, that…?"

"Acathla."

"Yeah, it was calling for your blood. There was a sense of completeness when it contemplated your blood."

"I had no idea that Acathla was sentient in it's stone encasement," Angel mused.

"I don't know that it was," Dylan frowned. "Maybe that's just the way I related to it in my dream. You know, gave it actions and emotions that I could understand."

"Maybe." He was silent a second, then, "I'm surprised Dru didn't turn you the second I failed that first time. She was really upset."

"Well, she lost it a little on me," Dylan admitted.

"Oh really, what did she do?"

Dru stormed into her room. She'd been stuck there since waking up the previous afternoon. She'd heard all the commotion in the main outer room and knew that they had brought the stone demon home. She knew that they would try the ritual as soon as they had everything ready. She jut didn't know if Dru would come for her before the ritual or leave her to burn or whatever was supposed to happen to the humans when the demon was released. It was something of a relief that Dru did come. Until Dylan realized that her mood had not improved since she'd last seen the Vampiress.

"I'm so disappointed," Dru crooned as she slumped down on the teen's bed. "Daddy failed," she wept.

"I'm sorry Dru," Dylan sighed, even though she partly wasn't. She just hoped that he wouldn't figure out what he needed to complete this ritual. Dru's head shot up.

"My baby knew," she whispered, more to herself than Dylan. "My baby was right all along." She whirled to look at the girl, still curled up on her bed. "Did you see?" she demanded harshly. "Is Daddy going to do it?" Dylan knew what Dru was asking.

"I don't know Dru," she shrugged helplessly. "I didn't see that far. I just knew that when he first tried, he wouldn't succeed." Dru smiled a canny grin that chilled Dylan's heart.

"If at first you don't succeed," Dru chanted in a sing-song voice, "then try, try again." With sinewy grace, she bent over and opened the trunk at the foot of Dylan's bed. She removed one of the black strips that they'd used for their tea parties. She let the lid of the trunk fall shut and wove her way to the girl. "My little doll will just have to try again," she crooned. She knelt on the bed and tied the blindfold around the stunned girl's head, easily covering her eyes. "Now, see!" she commanded, as if Dylan could perform on demand. And with that, she swept from the room.


	21. Imminent Unrescue

Title: Baby Doll

Author Restive Nature

Disclaimers: I do not own any of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series. They belong to the almighty Joss and I just play with them for my own amusement before putting them away neatly.

Spoilers: Buffy Season Three "Amends"

Summary: A teenage girl with mysterious ties to Angel helps him with his Christmas Amends.

Chapter Twenty Imminent Un-rescue

"Dru thought you'd have more visions just because she told you to?" Angel frowned. It amazed him sometimes to realize just how deep Dru's insanity went.

"She was very determined that way," Dylan shrugged. "You guys spoiled her too much." And Angel couldn't deny the statement, although it was more complicated than that.

"Did you see anything then?"

"Pure darkness," she answered. "And of course, Spike."

"You saw Spike?" he was surprised. He hadn't known obviously, that Spike would betray him. But the possibility should have occurred to him. And it really shouldn't have surprised him that Dylan knew all this ahead of time. Hers was a strange, dark tale. Made stranger that he had lived part of it with her and could only appreciate the strength in her now.

"No,' she shook her head. "I mean, Spike came to my room and took the blindfold off. I saw hi with my eyes, not-!"

"I get it," Angel held his hand up, chuckling lightly. "So, no more visions after that dream."

"Not about that, no," she shook her head. He filed that information away for later.

"Spike visited huh? What did he want?"

"Oddly enough, I never found out," she grimaced. "Dru came back before he could tell me."

Dylan was semi-voluntarily locked in her world of darkness. Her senses were nowhere near as acute as the Vampires she lived with. So she left the blindfold on, unsure how Dru would react if she returned to find Dylan without it. Before, she would have been sure that Dru wouldn't have cared. But now, this new Dru was frightening her. It was as if she was back at square one, small, frightened and having no idea if she were going to survive the night.

She faintly sensed movement outside her door. But there were no footsteps. That could only mean one person. Spike. The door creaked open slowly. Then it shut just as softly. Dylan held her breath, wondering if Spike had just been looking in on her, or if he'd come for a visit. She really hoped it was the latter, because she desperately needed someone to be there with her. And then she felt gently hands in her hair. The world exploded in front of her as the sharp light from the pinpoints of candles caught her unaware. She blinked a few times and turned her head.

"Hey pet," Spike greeted softly. "How long have you been trussed up like this?"

"The chain," she gestured to the wall, "for quite a while. The blindfold was a recent addition."

"I thought so," he murmured. He dropped the blindfold beside her on the bed and pulled his hands back. "I figured you might be getting peckish," he explained as he lifted the bag from hi lap. Dylan smiled appreciatively. As she took it from him.

"Thanks, I was," she lied. Food was actually the furthest thing from her mind. But Spike had done such an uncharacteristically sweet thing that she couldn't let it pass by without comment. She fiddled with the bag, unsure if she could stomach anything right then.

"So what did you say that's got Dru all pissed?" he inquired casually.

"Uh," Dylan wasn't sure what to tell him. Should she tell him a lie? Not really a good idea. It was a simple matter for him to just ask Dru. Unless the Vampiress was sulking. That was a definite possibility. But eventually, the truth would come out. "I told her that he would fail."

"Really," Spike smirked. That was definitely enough to rile his Princess up. "Wait a minute there. Was that just your opinion? Or did you… you know?"

"I dreamt it," she supplied.

"Bloody hell," he breathed. He grew thoughtful. He stared at her for a few moments, then leaned forward conspiratorially. "Listen, I'm going to tell you something, but you can't let anyone know."

"Oh, I don't know," Dylan was instantly wary. If Spike shared something with her, Dru might realize and even though the Vampiress had never done so, she knew that Dru had ways of making people talk.

"No, it's a good thing," Spike insisted. But the sound of footsteps forestalled him. "Damn it all!" he snarled softly. He stared at her for a moment, before snatching up the blindfold. "It's Dru," he hissed. Dylan nodded and he quickly affixed the strip of cloth around her eyes once more. As he did so, she carefully tucked the bag of food he'd given her behind the pillow she rested against. Once the blindfold was set, she expected him to leave. But she felt the odd sensation of his fingers against her hip. It almost felt as if he were digging in her pocket. And then his fingers were gone, and so was the rest of him.

She didn't have to wait long for anything to happen. But it didn't happen to her. She heard some many minutes later, Spike calling for Drusilla. Her footsteps, which were coming nearer to her room, stopped. And then the Vampiress turned away and went back the way she had come. But Dylan knew things were accelerating. Soon, he would try the ritual again. Dylan tried very hard to see if he would be successful. But her vision just couldn't be forced. So Dylan waited. She eventually choked some food down. And near dawn, she finally fell asleep.

"I don't get it," Angel frowned. "What was Spike doing?"

"What do you mean?" she questioned, unsure what point he was touching on.

"After he blindfolded you again," Angel clarified.

"Oh," Dylan smiled in remembrance. "He was saving me." She didn't elaborate.

The dreams began again from the moment she fell asleep. They were furious in their intensity. Over and over they replayed. She never knew a moment's peace in that slumber. The call for blood was answered. Exultation shimmered through her, only to be cut short. The rush of pain anew as the sword returned home. Angelus was with her now, but he was no longer the one she wanted. She could see it in his eyes. The angelic one had fallen from grace. He was in hell now, with her.

By the time Dylan had finally woken up from the latest dream, she had no idea what time it was, or even what day. She felt dirty. The dreams had evolved very little from the original one. They were hell, pure and simple. Her heart constricted. She hadn't been alone in her dreams. Angelus had undergone his own transformation. He had once again become the one that had dried a little girl's tears. Taken care and sheltered her until help was found. The one that had sat with her in the hospital while she was scared out of her wits. She could have wept for him. Somehow, she knew, Hell wasn't a dream for him, but now even more so a reality.

Belatedly, she realized that she was still wearing the blindfold. She pulled it from her, not surprised that it was soaked with her tears. She tossed it aside; wondering what she would be enduring next. She couldn't allow herself to dwell on Angel now. She felt horribly for him, but she had her own survival to look for. That reminded her sharply of the food that Spike had brought her. She pulled the bag from behind the pillow and glanced in. She laughed softly. At the very top were her favorite caramel chocolate bars. Underneath was more junk food. Something that was convenient. Her stomach growled. So she pulled the likeliest thing from the bag. She knew her empty stomach wouldn't tolerate the rich chocolate. So she chose the crackers. As she munched, she listened for clues. Voices and movement would indicate it was evening. Nothing meant the Vampires were asleep. And as she was still chained, she believed it to be day.

She brushed the cracker crumbs from her hands and stood to stretch. It was then that she felt something digging into her hip. With a start, she remembered Spike's hands at her hip. She dug her fingers into the tight jean pocket and to her amazement, withdrew a small silver key. She stared at it. It was easy enough to recognize it. She'd seen this key almost every night for the past eight months. With excited but shaky limbs, she clambered from the bed. She swiftly unlocked the manacle from her ankle, stopping to rub it as blood rushed back in to the protesting area. She winced as the sensation stabbed at her like a thousand tiny pins. She was torn between thinking out a plan and just running like hell.

But if she was wrong, she could be running straight into a mob of angry, tired, and most importantly, hungry Vampires. So she held her enthusiasm back and moved cautiously to the door. She listened for a long time before deciding to ease the door open. All the quiet kept reinforcing her belief that it was daytime. She crept through the hallway, prepared for she believed anything. But all she found was emptiness. She finally made it to the main room. Completely dumbfounded, she glanced at the open doorway that led to the garden. It was night. So where were all the Vampires? Had they fled when Angelus failed in his end the world quest? There was only one way to find out.

She searched the mansion from room to room and found nothing. It was if they had all disappeared in one fell swoop. Dylan rejoiced a little until she came to Spike's room. It had been stripped bare. Her lower lip trembled. She remembered how she'd made him promise many weeks ago now, that should Angelus threaten her, that he would kill her quickly. At the time, she'd looked on it as her only form of rescue. But he had done much better than she ever imagined him capable of.

"So just like that, you were free?" Angel smiled. He much preferred happy endings, even though they were truly a rare thing.

"I was free," she nodded slowly. His face fell as he recalled what she had come home to.

"Was it really bad?" he whispered. "When you got home, that is?"

"Oh, no," Dylan smiled gently. "My parents were overjoyed to see me. The police had written me off as a runaway. But my parents weren't so sure."

"What did you tell them?"

"Part truth part lies," she shrugged. "The truth, that I was carjacked and held against my will. The lies, that I was in LA at the carjackers crackhouse. They didn't seem inclined to press much further than that. I told them that I couldn't talk about it yet."

"I suppose not,"

"They wanted me to see a psychiatrist," she told him. "But they were killed before they could make an appointment."

"What happened after that," he wondered. It still rankled him that she was barely eighteen and all by herself. "Wait a minute. You just turned eighteen. Shouldn't you have a guardian or something?"

She grinned sadly. "I was wondering when you'd cotton on to that fact. It's amazing how much my mother's and my handwriting are pretty much identical." He looked puzzled again. "I forged her signature. She did a lot of stuff online and like a dutiful, responsible person, kept all her passwords in her little filing cabinet upstairs."

"But weren't the police aware that they had died?" he was sure that she had mentioned that.

"It's amazing how quickly people in this town look away when enough cash is waved under their noses," she grumbled. "I had them reported as missing about a week after my birthday. And then the police claimed that they found them. So according to the legal stuff, I was of legal age and was able to inherit their rather sizable holdings. Most of it came from my grandparents. But hey, at least I'm comfortable. I have he roof over my head, get enough to eat and I'm still in school. It's okay."

"No it's not," he argued. "You shouldn't have to be alone. No one should be."


End file.
